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harmonybarmy · 2 years ago
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when dean said he gives himself wholly over to god, and when dean finds out he was born to be the vessel for the archangel michael, and then when dean said he was all out of options so he started to pray
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sepiasys · 30 days ago
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Me when
When
When the others are not allowed in front 😭
If they are they aren't alone and thus get heavily influenced or dont have full control or smth 🥺💔
#sepiasys.txt#Pls I just want to stop feeling these things 😭#sepiasys.priv#Idk if there's been a DAY we weren't pet or age regressed atleast once /g#It doesn't help that our roommates are kinda triggers? S especially is. ☕️ is comfortable beside him as a pet; 🪴 just hates everyone (/hj/t)#B actually triggers our 🪴 the most which is. something...#It's impossible to unmask around these people :(#🪶 has been out a lot more recently as well? Holding all the shame and guilt 😓#🌼 only ever feels excited or happy or even content at the calmest. 👑 is rarely fuckin here but we try because he's rlly important.#Omg I feel suddenly sleepy now akabksbs NOT cool >:/#Idk if we have more alters; It's so confusing. I wonder if it's because we just never feel like an adult#Honestly 🪶 has been here feeling worthless af and like. the thing that would HELP is if we get a job!#Like we thought about it and yeah having a job would make us feel less like a burden on our roommates#But then we literally cannot think of anything that would sound good to an employer??? Like are we actually so worthless lmao (😞🥺)#AGH I WANNA LIE AGAIN!! I WANT TO LIE AND PRETEND WE'RE MORE CAPABLE THAN WE CAN REMEMBER BC WE CANT REMEMBER SHIT!!#Stop valuing honesty it'll get us nowhere or make things worse/harder in a lot of cases >:(#Fucking GODDAMNIT‼️ I'm like going to punch some shit but also I literally am not allowed in front-front (I dont think anyways) >:/#ARE WE JUST SUBCONSCIOUSLY MASKING ALL THE DAMN TIME OR IS IT SOMEONE ELSE IN FRONT; THAT IS THE QUESTION >:0#I fucking hate appearing normal how the fuck do I act like societal norms don't apply to me
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tonycries · 3 months ago
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THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!
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Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.9k
A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)
Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 
It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.
No, they were noise complaints. 
“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”
At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”
“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”
You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”
“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 
Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 
But it still wasn’t enough for him.
“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”
As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.
It was already so loud. 
“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”
Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.
“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”
It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”
“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”
“B-but-”
“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 
And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”
“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”
Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”
He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”
You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”
Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 
He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 
“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”
“He- he said his name was Shiu.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat
“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”
Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 
“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”
So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 
Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”
With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-
“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”
It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 
You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”
“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”
A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 
And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 
“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”
Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.
But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 
Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.
“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”
If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.
In and out in and out in and-
Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 
“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 
He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 
“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”
Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 
After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 
“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”
Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”
It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 
“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”
Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-
“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”
With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”
You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 
“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”
Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”
And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.
“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”
“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”
“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”
“Cho.”
“Please-”
“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”
“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”
Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.
“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”
And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 
“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?
A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”
Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 
Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”
“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”
“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”
You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 
“I did but-”
“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”
Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”
You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 
Smack!
Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”
Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”
“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”
It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.
And here he still was. 
Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-
Click!
Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?
Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 
“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”
And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!
“Oh, Kuna–”
“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m��name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”
Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”
That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”
And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”
“Lift your hips.”
Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”
“Lift your hips goddammit.”
It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 
Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”
“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”
“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”
Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 
“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”
You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”
You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-
In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 
“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”
Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 
“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”
He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.
“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”
It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.
“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”
“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.
“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”
You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 
It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.
A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 
“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”
“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”
You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”
As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 
Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”
This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 
You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”
“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”
You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 
“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”
He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 
It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 
“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”
Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”
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A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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osamucide · 3 months ago
Text
⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!
. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!
wc: 5.3k
cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)
reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!
“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”
The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.
“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”
You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.
“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”
“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”
But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.
There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.
It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.
“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”
His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”
He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹
⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!
“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”
That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.
And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.
“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.
His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”
So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.
And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.
“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”
“Osamu!”
But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.
“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”
He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.
Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.
“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.
“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”
When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹
⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!
"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.
"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.
"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.
He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.
Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.
He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.
"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."
He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.
You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.
"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹
⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!
You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.
Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.
He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.
But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.
"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"
He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.
He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.
You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.
"Unh—ugh..."
You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.
Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.
"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."
You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹
⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!
"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"
"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"
Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.
"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"
But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.
"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"
His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.
"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."
And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.
And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.
"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."
And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.
"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹
⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!
You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."
The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.
"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."
He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.
"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."
"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.
You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.
"Fuckin' slut—"
When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.
"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."
But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.
You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.
"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."
His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹
⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!
"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."
You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.
You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."
"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.
"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"
"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.
You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."
"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.
He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.
"I mean, unless..."
Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.
“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“
His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.
“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹
⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!
The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.
He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.
I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.
You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.
There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.
Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.
He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.
"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"
You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.
An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.
"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹
⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!
You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.
When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?
Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?
"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."
You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.
"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹
⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!
"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.
He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.
But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.
"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.
"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.
He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.
He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.
"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."
"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.
Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"
You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.
"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹
⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!
“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."
"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."
You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."
"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.
"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."
But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.
"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."
"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."
The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.
"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”
"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.
"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.
"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹
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kamitv · 7 months ago
Text
▷ Someone Else?
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Sypnosis . What happens when they find out you have a friend that’s a little too comfortable with you. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami Kento x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Choso Kamo x f!reader. / Content . afab!reader, possessiveness, toxic men, rough sex, reader is oblivious to someone flirting with her, praise, overstim, degrading, non-curse au, dirty talk, filth, mention of squirting, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k
A/N: Nanami lovers are about to eat GOOD with this one & writing this cured my depression abt Choso. This is based on this anon req btw; JJK men finding out about a close male friend— not proofread, there may be a lot of errors… [MDNI]
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★ Choso Kamo
“Mine, mine, mine, mine,” Is just about all Choso could grunt against your lips as he fucked you down into the mattress. “You understand that, no? You’re all mine, princess.”
Panting heavily, nails scraping at his back, pussy stuffed full of cum that was dripping out and down onto the bed so messily— Choso had you ruined all because he found out you had some guy friend who may have flirted with you today.
“Fuckin’ answer me,” Choso groans. His lips are right against yours, cock buried inches deep into your cunt as your legs remained sprawled out for him.
“Y-Yes, C-Choso-, fuck!” You moan into the air, eyes watering at how rough your husband was being with you.
His head tipped to the side, “Who the fuck did that guy think he was, huh? Flirting with you like you’re not my goddamn wife.”
“C-Choso, p-please-,”
“Please what?” He growls, voice just as rough as his thrusts were with you, “Told’ you I didn’t like that guy months ago.”
Your jaw simply hands open, eyes hardly on your lover above you, “M’sorry.”
Choso scoffs, “I know you are. You should be.” He huffs as his balls slap against your skin with each thrust.
Panting, you gasp out his name, “Choso…” You utter just as a big pout pulls at your lower lip, eyes doe-like as you gaze up at the man.
He cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow at him, his dick twitching wildly inside you, “Don’t fuckin’ pouttt,” He coos, “Y’let that guy hug you like that today ‘nd you thought I was gonna be okay with that?”
You shake your head and a whine slips out, “N-No, but-“
“Shut up. I wasn’t done talkin’.” Choso cuts off meanly, rolling his eyes afterward, “Months I’ve been tellin’ you to distance yourself from him and yet here we are...” His body presses into yours and you whimper, feeling his hands grip your thighs tight enough to leave marks.
“Choso.” You call out, as if that’ll give you a second to escape him.
He holds back a whine that nearly escapes his throat due to how pretty you looked beneath him. Even upset with you, his cock pulsed and throbbed inside you by the mere sight of you whimpering below him.
“Fuck, I love you baby but damn,” He almost smiles at you, “I thought we talked about this?”
You take a deep breath, “W-We did, I just-“
Choso’s cock hits in deep, pelvis smacking against you constantly, “If you make another excuse for him m’gonna stop,” He tells you, hips slowing for only a second.
“N-No. Don’t stop, please.” You beg before moving your arms to wrap tighter around his neck and tug him closer.
“Mmmh,” He pouts to mock you but can’t deny the fact that the way you tugged him closer to you has his mind growing hazy for a second, “Don’t stop?” Choso asks.
He continues to slow down anyway, not yet coming to a halt but thrusts turning languid and listening to how your pussy messily slicks up his skin.
“Please, Cho, m-m’close.” You whisper, eyes silently begging him.
“Are you?” Choso questions, voice deeper than ever as he smirks, “Y’gonna cum f’me again? Wet up my cock so I can send that asshole a picture ‘nd show him whose dick you’re beggin’ for every night? Huh?”
Your back arches up off the bed a bit and your legs begin to cage around Choso’s waist, “Hahh, mmgh, t-that’s so… mean, Cho,” You whine in response, pouting again as your eyes water.
His pace had picked back up and you were being fucked into the mattress, a filthy mess of cum dripping down onto the bed below where the two of you were connected.
“Mean?” Choso echoes, the coldness of the wedding ring he’s got on his finger pressing further into your legs and making you shudder, “Baby… I can show you mean.”
You slide a hand up into his hair and pull his face closer to yours, attempting to kiss him, “Choso…”
He avoids your little gesture and teases you with a smile as he pulls up a little, “I could send him a video.”
“Choso please,” You frown at your husband’s sudden suggestion.
His dripping tip knocks against the hilt of your cunt, stuffing you full over and over before he finally let out a sigh, “Tch, fine. I won’t,” Choso hums, leaning closer to your face just like you originally wanted him to before whispering, “But don’t let me catch you around him again, okay?”
You nod and your eyes drop to his lips, “Okay.”
“Mh,” Choso hums against you as he finally gives you a slight kiss, feeling how you whine at the loss of the gentle contact when he pulls away, “Now tell me you love me, baby.”
You’re saying it faster than you could even process, “I love you, Cho.”
Oh his entire body reacts to that— hips drawing back, tip teasing your folds for a moment as he taunts you, “Yeah?”
“Mhmmm,” You hum eagerly.
His head tips to the side and he smirks, angling himself so that his cockhead bumps up against your clit, “How much?”
“Love you s’much,” You mumble, a slight whines leaving your throat after.
“Aww, do you? Y’love me so much?” Choso coos. His voice was as deep as ever but soft with you nonetheless before he moves his lips to your ear and shifts his cock back down to your twitching hole. Easing himself back in, “Or do you jus’ love gettin fucked like this?” Choso whispers.
The delicious stretch his cock created as it pushed back inside you had you gasping, “B-Both.”
“Both, huh?” Choso scoffs and his lips press against the shell of your ear, “Fuckin’ slut.”
Then he’s dragging his hips back and rutting them down into you with haste, listening to how each thrust makes you gasp and moan. You were so cute when you couldn’t handle him.
Your nails scratched at his scalp and his upper back, leaving bright red marks on his skin and making him hiss. Bulging cock sinking in and out of you so hard that all you could do was hold onto him and moan.
“H-Hhgnn…” You cry out— cunt tightening around him and earning a deep groan.
“Fuuuck, almost forgot you love that,” Choso huffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, “Y’like it when I’m mean t’you, huh?”
“Ah, mgh, y-yeah,” Your voice comes in a sultry whimper and Choso groans again with how tight your pussy was clinging onto his cock, sucking him in deeper than he could handle.
His breath grows hot against your ear, “S’that why you let him hug you? You wanted to piss me off?” Thrusting harder and harder with his questions, your eyes begin to roll back.
“M-Maybe,” You manage to respond with a fucked-out smile taking over your expression.
“Maybe? Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” Choso purrs, “If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you and call you a slut, all you had to do was ask.”
And then he’s doing just as he’s described— plump cockhead abusing your sweet spot by hitting it over and over, “H-Hahh, ah, nngh, t-that’s-, fuck, e-embarrassing Cho.”
Choso chuckles, “Askin’ for me to do somethin’ I’ve done before during sex isn’t embarrassing, baby. Y’know I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
You start pouting all over again, babbling an “M’sorry,” Without really understanding why you’re still apologizing.
“Mhm. Prove it by squirtin’ on me again,” Choso tells you before moving to sit up. He then tugs your thighs over his and fuck does the tip of his dick make you see stars for a second as he repositions himself slightly.
His hands grip onto your hips and he continues his rough pace like it’s nothing, hair disbelieved with a few dark stands sticking to his forehead.
“Cho,” You say in attempt to convince him to slow down for a moment.
Unfortunately for you, your voice only drives him crazier. You were so whiney, it caused blood to rush to the head of his cock and his balls to ache— everything about you was intoxicating.
“I’ll send your lil’ friend a picture of these messy ass sheets afterward, ‘kay?” Choso pants, lips parting as he releases a slight moan from your pussy dripping all over him. Such a messy girl you were, not that he’d prefer you any other way.
“Choso.” You manage almost sternly, sending him a pointed look.
He pouts and decides to play innocent as if his cock wasn’t currently tearing you apart, “Don’t scold me, I gotta do something, baby.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand down and graze his pelvis— making a fail of an attempt at pushing him away, “S’not nice.”
Choso snaps his hips forward as if to make a point and fuck his frustrations right into you, “Good thing m’not tryin’ to be fuckin’ nice then, right?”
★ Nanami Kento
Who swears he was never a jealous man. He's seen the way people look at you time and time again and never has he batted an eye-- why would he? Nanami's confident in himself enough to know that no other man would come in and steal your heart the way he has.
And such confidence remained up until today.
After a long day of work, there's nothing more he wants to come home to than his lovely girlfriend who he's been infatuated with for years now. Yet, today was different.
Walking into the shared apartment, unlike normal, you didn't come running up to him with a hug and a million kisses. Odd, he thought to himself, followed by a call of your name that echoed throughout the home.
"In the kitchen, Ken," You replied back, the sweet sound of your voice making him smile as he puffed out a sigh.
He's not sure where the momentary worry came from but it subsided as he figured you may have been busy with something. As Nanami takes his jacket off, he moves a hand to losen his tie, soon raking a hand through his hair afterward.
The house was awfully quiet, void of sounds of cooking or your voice-- which was, again, odd. Stepping out of his shoes, Nanami steadily makes his way to the kitchen, soon spotting you and feeling a thousand pounds of stress lift off of his shoulders at the mere sight of you.
And in a sundress no less. You were on your phone, fingers tapping away at the screen with a slight smile on your face, your body bent forward against the kitchen counter with your back arched ever so slightly as you stood comfortably.
The sound of footsteps approaching you made you turn your head toward you boyfriend and flash him a loving smile. "Hi Kento, how was work?" You chirped sweetly.
"Fine, my love. How was home?" Nanami replied sweetly as he leaned down to you. A sudden buzz from your phone made you move your gaze and Nanami found himself giving you a slight peck on your lips but your eyes were elsewhere.
Whatever was on your phone must've been quite intriguing. "Home was wonderful. I did some cleaning today so..." You trail off and Nanami just gazes at you as your words fade away.
His brows begin to push together, "So...?"
You blink a few times, fingers tapping away at your screen yet again, "So uh," Trying to focus on both your boyfriend and the male you were texting at the same time was proving to be rather difficult for you.
Hence why Nanami sighs heavily and moves a hand to your back, caressing you gingerly, "Everything alright, love?"
You nod, "Mhm... Sorry about that, Ken. What was I saying again?" You ask as you turn to him with curious eyes.
He gazes at you, wondering how your attention could be so diverted. This was unusual coming from you but he shrugs it off, "You were telling me about how you cleaned up today?"
"Oh! Yes, I was gonna say I felt rather productive today," You finally get out before, again, turning away and to your phone.
Nanami nods his head, "I see. Is there something going on, sweetheart?"
You chuckle, "What? No, why?"
For a moment, your boyfriend does nothing more than watch how consumed you are by the conversation taking place through text on your phone. "You seem awfully distracted, is all," He sighs.
"Ohhh, no," You smile, "It's just this coworker of mine was wondering why I didn't show up today and then he and I-"
"He?" Nanami echoes aloud mistakenly. He hadn't meant to voice that, it was more of a thought.
Slowly, your head turns to your boyfriend yet again and despite the smile on your face, your brows push together and your expression is skeptical, "Yes, Kento, he. Is that an issue?"
"No, of course not," Nanami shakes his head before glancing off to the side with a shrug, "I just wasn't aware you were so close with any of your male coworkers."
You blink, "I'm really not, it's just him."
For some reason, his heart pangs a bit as you say that, "Just him, huh?" Nanami hums to himself.
"Mhm," You nod. Then, ignoring the clear attitude this has brought on, you turn to your phone and return to your texting.
Steadily, Nanami's eyes trail back over to you and he watches you type before rolling his eyes. He's not even sure why this is bothering him but he then moves to stand behind you, his crotch pressing into your ass as he begins to crave more of your attention.
He's truly not used to it being on anyone else that's not him.
"And what are you two discussing now that's so..." His words trail for a minute, eyes dragging along the slight curve in your back as you remained arched perfectly in such an effortless way, "...Important," Nanami soon finishes with a sharp narrow of his eyes.
"Well, he asked to come over for some reason and I'm not really sure how to respond," You reply honestly as you stare at the most recently received text.
Nanami's head cocks back a bit and he scoffs, "He's asked to come over?"
You nod, "Yes."
There's a pause but then your boyfriend leans forward and you can feel his muscular thighs press into the back of yours as his torso leans over. A hand is placed on the counter beside your waist and you look back over your shoulder to see Nanami nearing you.
His gentle eyes meet yours, "Can I see?"
You grin innocently, having nothing to hide from him whatsoever, "Sure," Handing him your phone, Nanami doesn't hesitate to read the messages exchanged from the past hour or so, seeing that this coworker of yours has be trying to flirt with you for some time now.
"Hm," He hums, "Does he always refer to you as uh," He clicks his tongue and scoffs, "Pretty girl?"
You shrug, "Well, yes and I've asked him to stop-"
"And yet you keep talking to him instead of blocking his number?" Nanami cuts off faster than he means to, eyes flipping up from the phone and to your face.
You flash a sheepish little smile, not exactly understanding the issue here, "I mean, he is my coworker."
For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. Nanami seems to be bothered but not exactly upset just yet, his brown eyes boring into yours as you have this completely clueless look on your face.
Weighing his head to the side ever so slightly, "...That enjoys flirting with you despite knowing you have a boyfriend?" Nanami finishes your statement for you questionably.
You bat your eyes at him and your brows go up, "W-Well-"
"Y'know what," Nanami places your phone down, "Why don't you invite him over?" He suddenly suggests.
You’re taken all the way back by the sudden statement, giving your boyfriend nothing more than a blank stare before uttering a baffled, "Huh?"
"Tell him he can come over,” He repeats, sliding the phone toward your hands and then moving his own to his belt. There’s a slight shuffle as he unbuckles his belt, the simply clacks making your heart skip a steady beat as you realize where he’s going with this. “I'll should be done by the time he gets here,” Nanami says.
Again, you blink in a confused manner before taking your phone up and doing as he’s just suggested— telling your coworker he can make his way over to you.
After which, you turn off your phone and return your eyes back to your boyfriend whose hands were busy tossing his belt onto the nearby floor. Your eyes then dropped down to his crotch and you swayed your hips to the side a bit to get a better look— spotting the heavy tent in his pants and gulping at the sight.
“Kento…” You hush out, earning a hum from him, “Is everything alright?” Your tone was so very soft and sappy with him, the sound making his heart ache in emotions beyond comprehension.
“Of course, my love,” He replies gently, sending you a quick smile, “I just need you right now, is that okay?”
Your gaze lifts and you meet his pretty brown eyes, lashes fluttering at how handsome he looks standing behind you, “You know that’s okay Ken, I’m all yours.”
He just about forgets the idea of restraint after that statement of yours. Of course he knows you’re all his but hearing it come out of your mouth with zero hesitation even after having another man flirt with you was…
Well, it was reassurance. Reassurance Nanami didn’t realize he enjoyed hearing.
Which is why he has you repeating similar phrases like that within the next few minutes as he fucks you into the kitchen counter.
Hips bruising with the way they were pressed into the counter edge, panties tugged to the side and nearly ripped off of you, back arched like a goddamn slut for your boyfriend, and messy folds stretched open as Nanami pounded his heavy cock into your tight hole— you were soon on cloud nine.
“Repeat that for me love,” Nanami grunts, breath coming out in heavy pants as his hips clash into yours over and over and over again.
You could hardly breathe properly and your mind was all frazzled, nearly everything that came out of your mouth was a moan and yet he still expected you to speak to him.
“K-Kento,” You gasp his name in erotic breathes, “Fuuuck, hahh, I… I said m’all yours,”
A sharper thrust is given in response to you, one of his hands gripping onto the bundled part of your dress at your lower back and the other coming down hard on your ass, “Yeah? All mine to ruin, right?” Nanami huffs out.
All you could do was nod, “Uhuh.” His hips were to damn harsh against your ass, thick cock drilling into your hole despite how lovingly he was speaking to you not too long ago.
“All mine to fuck senseless,” Nanami continues, his aroused tone making your cunt tighten around him.
Your jaw falls open as he starts knocking into that sappy spot inside you, each thrust making your legs quake and the fat of your ass ripple against him, “Yes Ken-, f-fuck.” You stammer, eyes watering and your nails scraping against the counter.
“Oh darling,” He groans, tossing his head back and then moaning at how wet you were for him, how easy it was for his cock to slide in and out and in and out, “Do you have any idea what you to t’me? Huh?” Nanami huffs.
“Mhmm,” You barely whine in response, your body jerking forward with his every mean thrust.
Steadily, he rolls his head back into place, eyes glancing down at the obscene stretch of your pussy lips around the shaft of his cock, “Are you sure? Y’know it upsets me to see another man flirt with you,” He says, voice surprising sturdy despite how well you’re taking him.
“M’sorry Ken,” You’re quick to apologize as if you’ve done something wrong and your boyfriend frowns at you.
“Huh. No need to be sorry, sweetheart,” Nanami coos, and god you feel your legs drawing together at how gentle his tone is with you. “S’not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He whispers.
Followed by which is the slight shift in his hips, angling his thrusts a little and causing your entire body to twitch below him. Nanami knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand.
How could he not? He’s studied you very closely— hence why the slight shift causes the curve of his cock to just drill into you so hard that you’re seeing stars.
“Mmgh, ahh, hahh, K-Kento,” You whine, your torso beginning to lift from the counter as if to try to escape his thrusts for a moment.
Jaw gone slack, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, nails scraping for some kind of hold, and legs shaking as they drew together— you were losing your mind.
“Hm?” Nanami replies so simply, too simply, as if he wasn’t currently fucking the air out of your lungs.
You gasp and your voice grows airy, “Fuck-, oh fuck… m’gonna cum again.”
He tilts his head and smiles, “Again? Aw, you’re so messy for me today,” Nanami says before his hand shifts into the arch of your back and he presses you down onto the counter.
Pinned, you could no longer try and escape his mean thrusts for even a second. Nanami was relentless with you, cock fucking you full, pussy drooling against him, coating his veins— you couldn’t even formulate proper sentences anymore.
“Hhggnh, hahhh, ah, ah…” You moaned loudly with not a single care in the world, eyes rolling back as your cheek pressed into the cold kitchen counter.
“So loud too,” Nanami comments. Then he’s leaning closer to you, cock bottoming you out and making you gasp and whimper.
“Kenn,” Is all you could say for a moment, eyes watering and breath leaving you.
His voice is suddenly next to your ear as his muscular frame leans over yours, “Yes love? I’m right here.” He emphasizes that last word with a deep thrust, making your legs nearly give out for a second.
“I know, I know-,” You babble, trying to pull your head away from his to escape his deep tone in your ear. “Fuck, fuuck, I feel you s’deep.” You whimper again, pouting while trying to catch a moment to breathe.
“Mmhmm, feel me riiight there, huh?” Nanami asks. And god was he right where you wanted him, fat cockhead jerking into your sweet spot and turning your legs into utter mush beneath him.
“Y-Yes, yes, m-mhmm,” Your squeeze shut and a tear rolls down your cheek, heavy pants leaving your throat, “Shit.”
Nanami moves to kiss the crown of your ear lovingly, “Aw, look at you. You close, pretty?”
You’re quick to nod without second thought, “Yes.”
“C’mon then,” His lips move and press against your ear, “Give it to me.”
And then you’re coming undone, repeating his name over and over, “K-Kento, Kento fuck-, Ken.” He loves it too, smiling against your ear as he grunts at the way your cunt throbs and twitches as you cum on his cock.
“Hahh, you sound so pretty moaning my name like that,” He comments before pulling away from your ear, “Look at me while you do it this time,” He utters, earning a steady turn of your head as you angle it back to meet his gaze. Then he smiles at you, hips rolling into you and tip smearing against your gummy walls, “Mhm, thaaat’s it— good girl.”
“Mmh, mmgh!” Your eyes flicker as he slows down to you can really feel him. “Ahh… K-Ken,” You whisper.
His cock aches inside you, “Repeat that, what’s my name?”
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to maintain eye contact, “Kento.”
“Whose cock are you makin’ a mess on right now?” He questions, tone a but harsh with you as he drags his hips back.
Snapping them forward just as you answer him, you end up stuttering, “Y-Yours Ken.”
“Mhm,” His brows tense as he pulls back yet again. This time, he moves a hand around and grabs ahold of your jaw, tugging your body up off the counter a bit and your face closer to his, “Last question. Who do you belong to, hm?”
“Y-You Kento, m’all yours,” You pant, lips wet with drool and eyes glossy from tears.
All Nanami does is flash a slight smile before he’s rutting his cock right back into you, watching and listening to the way oxygen leaves your lungs, “That’s right. All fuckin’ mine.” Nanami groans, lips nearing yours with the way he pulls you closer to him. Then he’s whispering, “And your little coworkers gonna understand that after today.”
Just before his lips are on yours, you manage a staggered little, “W-What?” In question.
He chuckles, “Oh, you didn’t hear him? He knocked on the door a few minutes ago,” Nanami tells you, watching your entire face twist up as you’re too fucked out to really understand that. “I’m sure he heard you moaning my name…”
★ Toji Fushiguro
“So, you hate me, huh?” Toji dramatically huffs out as soon as the two of you enter your home again.
You groan and stomp off to your shared bedroom, trying to escape your annoyingly jealous husband due to what’s recently occurred. You’re apparently not allowed to be friends with his friends— or at least, not Shiu Kong allegedly.
Toji’s quick to stride into the bedroom behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you storm around the room with a smirk on his face. You were so cute when you were annoyed with him.
Tipping his head to the left, his eyes narrow at you snatching your jacket off as you tried to give him the silent treatment, “Not sure why you’re so upset, y’know. I wasn’t the one pressin’ my tits into someone’s face,” He scoffs.
His hands lift out of his pockets and he crosses his arms over his beefy chest, eyes yet to leave your overly annoyed figure standing by the bed.
You send him a pointed glare before openly rolling your eyes at him, letting him know you’re upset.
Toji cocks his head back at the gesture and his brows raise, “Fucks’ your problem, huh? Mad at me ‘cause of somethin’ you did?”
“No, Fushiguro. Leave me alone,” You huff, frustrated frown etching its way across your lips.
“Ohh, now she decides to speak? And she uses our last name to address me too?” Toji’s baffled by your little attitude, a bit entertained, but baffled nonetheless.
You sigh loudly and move to grab your nearest sweatpants, “Leave me alone.”
“Why, huh?” Toji scoffs, “Y’mad about what I said to Shiu?”
Your eyes move to a slow blink before you click your tongue, “Well, seeing as you told him never to come around us again and that I’m, apparently, ‘not his fuckin’ friend’, maybe.”
Toji doesn’t react much to you mocking him and his expression stays relatively the same, “The hell is wrong with my statement?”
“I made a mistake and you took it out on him,” You explain as you tug your sweats on and move to take your shirt off.
“No, you both made a mistake ‘nd I’m takin’ it out on both of you.” Toji corrects. He was a bit more upset than he led on, “Your dumb ass leaned over him for some stupid fuckin’ water bottle and his eyes went to your tits as if it were second nature.”
You grit your teeth, “It was an accident Toji.”
“Nah, fuck that. Accident my goddamn ass, how many times has he looked at you like that, huh?” Your husband suddenly questions, sounding like he was implying something more as he took a step closer to the bed.
Your brows push together and you shrug, “I don’t know-“
“Oh and let’s not forget the way he grabbed your waist to, what?” He scoffs, “‘Help’ you? ‘Keep you steady’?” Toji continues, hardly giving you a second to even try and respond, “Not sure where ya’ brains at today doll, but Shiu is way too fuckin’ comfortable touchin’ you and I don’t like it.”
You shoot him nothing more than a blank yet frustrated stare, “Toji.”
His eyes are already on yours, giving you the same energy through his looks, “What?”
Sighing, “You’re being dramatic.” You tell him.
That ticks him off just right because then his face is twisting up into a scowl, “Dramatic? I’m being fuckin’ dramatic? Girl don’t piss me off,” Toji warns.
You find the nerve to laugh at him, “Don’t piss you off? Toji you’ve been whining about this all damn day. It’s over now, isn’t it?”
He decides to ignore your little jab at him and he steadily walks over to the side of the bed you’re standing at, “No, it’s not. You haven’t even apologized.”
You chuckle, “For what?”
He finds himself standing not too far from you, glaring at your confused facial expression, “Bein’ mad at me for no damn reason, that’s what.”
You roll your eyes at him again, “Toji you told me I can’t be friends with your friend.”
“Maybe because he wants to fuck you?” Toji fires back.
Another scoff leaves you and you start shaking your head at your husband's ridiculous claims, “He doesn’t.”
“Soo, he just looked at your tits for no reason?" Toji asks, leaning toward you a bit and tilting is head as if to intimidate you, "He grabs your waist ‘nd says, 'I got you sweetheart' for no fuckin’ reason, right?”
Your throat runs dry at that. You may have forgotten Shiu said that to you, having not really paid much attention to it when he did, “I-“
“Do you not know what the fuck flirting looks like?” Toji lectures, taking one last step toward you so that his body was hardly an inch away from yours.
Your head tips back a bit so that you could look up at him, swallowing hard at how upset your husband seems to be and all your confidence on the matter nearly fading. “I do, but-“
“There is no but. He wants to fuck my wife," He interrupts, "Why the hell would I let you two be friends knowing that?”
That's when you sigh again, “Toji, you don’t know that he wants to fuck me, you’re assuming things-“
One of his hands flies up to his face and he starts rubbing his temples out of pure frustration, “Woman, he checks you out at every chance he gets when he thinks I’m not payin’ attention.”
“He-“
“He touched you all too inappropriately, right in front of me," Toji reminds you.
You try to take up for Shiu's actions, still not seeing what the issue behind it was, “He was making sure I didn’t fall over.”
A little pissed of smirk tugs at the corner of Toji's scared lips and he turns his head to the side as he looks away from you, scoffing, “Riiiiight.”
“I’m serious!” You utter pleadingly.
“So..." Toji slowly returns his gaze to you and his voice gets stern, "You don’t see anything sexual behind a man holding your waist and saying 'I got you sweetheart'?”
“No.” You reply confidently.
“Hm. Alright, then." Your husband nods before he's moving to pull his shirt up and over his head, your eyes widening at the man as one of his hands then go to your waist and he tugs your body to his, "Lemme show you somethin’ if that’s the case...”
And then you’re on the bed with your husband moments later— bouncing up and down on his hard cock as Toji fucked up into you, your tits jumping in his face, jaw hanging open, and his hands holding right onto your waist.
“See what I mean now?” Toji huffs, “See how fuckin’ sexual this shit is?”
“T-Toji-, hahhh, fuck, t-this is so much different," You moan at the constant stretch of his fat cock rutting up into your swollen folds, one of his thumbs at your clit as rolling circles over the twitching bud.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m doin’ what he fantasizes about," Toji tells you, smiling a bit as he watches your face twist up.
Your brows tensed and your jaw fell as his leaky cockhead drilled deep into you, “M-Mmgh, s-so… big.” You whine with your hands at his shoulders and nails scraping him as his harsh thrusts made your body jerk upward.
Toji's steel grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you from falling off of you, his fingers digging into your skin. Every time he thrusted his hips up, he'd use his grip to tug you back down-- forcing your cunt to spread open over his aching cock over and over, “Aww, don’t worry sweetheart, I gotchu’."
You gasp at his words, core throbbing due to his heavy tone, “Fuck-“
“Yeahh, see how fuckin’ wet that shit made you? Knew’ you weren’t fuckin’ stupid," Toji grunts out. He was so mean to you, taking out his frustrations from earlier on your pussy by soon spitting down on the, already, filthy mess below, adding to the slickness of it all and making you twitch.
Your hips try their best to keep up with him, rutting and rocking forward to keep his cock sucked deep inside you, “S-Shut up,” You tell your husband only to earn a scoff.
“Nahh," Toji begins to move his hands and your heart jumps. He tugs your torso near his before he's wrapping his big arms around your waist, locking you into place above him with your chest sandwiched against his, "Apologize t’me."
Your brows furrow and your eyes gloss over as his hips begin to pound his swollen cock up into you, obscene squelches of your cunt following as he does so. Your words come out in a whiney stammer, “F-For what-“
“Playin’ fuckin’ dumb, that’s what," Toji cuts off, eyes staring right into yours as he watched your face sink into that pretty fucked out state.
“Shiit," You gasp at how you couldn't move an inch, couldn't pull away or slow his thrusts down for a moment, forced to take every thick inch of his cock, "O-Okay, m’sorry-,”
Toji smiles, “Again.”
“M’sorry Toji," You whine. His arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you couldn’t even look away from him. You were both embarrassed and being fucked to tears simultaneously.
“Mmmh, without the mumblin’ this time," Toji instructs, gaze dropping to your wet lips so he can watch how you struggle, "Talk proper to me, girl.”
And of course, right after he he says that to you, he decides to then flip you both over so he's on top. “I-, hahh," You pant at the way his hands move to your legs and press them down against your chest, folding you up just how he wants to. "I’m… s-sorry Toji," You cry out.
With the way he's bucking his hips down into you, suddely calculated with his thrusts and making your eyes go wide. You were on the verge of screaming his name with how good his cock felt splitting you open.
“Close, but y’still stuttered," Toji tells you. His breathing was growing just as heavy as yours but that didn't stop him from teasing you for even a second.
“Fuck you-," You breathe out, earning a smile from him, "...I’m sorry.” You end up saying anyway because how could you disobey your husband when he's got you folded up like this, his veins throbbing against your gummy walls as you squeezed the life out of his cock.
Toji tilts his head a little, “Sorry what?”
“I-I’m sorry Toji," You correct yourself before he's leaning his weight onto you and god his cock pushes impossibly deeper. You were so full of him that air was getting hard to come by.
“Oneee more time f’me, baby," Toji whispers all of a sudden, his face close to yours and your legs practically over his shoulders. "C’mon, you can do it.”
“Hhgnnn… oh-, mmgh… I…" Your jaw falls open again and you struggle. His cockhead was hitting your insides right where you needed him, you could feel your core tensing and your legs going numb, "...I’m sorry Toji.”
Your husband smiles at you, “There ya’ gooo, atta’ girllll.” He praises, feeling the way your pussy narrows tightly around his cock just as you start cumming on him.
“Fuck.” Is the most you could get out of your mouth that wasn't an incoherent moan.
Then Toji notices you trying to move your hands to push him away a little and he softens his tone, “Hey, stop thaat, don’t give out on me," Toji coos, the sudden softness making your stomach churn before he moves a thumb to your clit again, "I gotchu’, pretty girl.”
“F-Fuck. Ohmygod-“ Your back arches up off the bed a bit and you whimper.
Toji just gawks at you, “Uhuh, now… y’won’t talk to Shiu again after this, right?” He questions, juuust to be sure you got the message after all this.
You nod in agreement, “N-No, I-, mmh, I won't t-talk t'him again…”
Fat cock rolling down into your pussy, your slick making his cock slid in so easily, “Y'sure?”
You nod, “Yes.”
Toji pouts a little just to mock the face you were making, “Yes who?”
Your eyes just barely meet his and his thumb presses against your clit, making your voice come out in a moan, “Yes Toji.”
“Mh," He hums, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "Good girl.”
★ Gojo Satoru
He doesn’t even let you explain yourself.
One ninety-second hug with some guy you claim you’ve known since college, his arms around your waist and yours wrapped around his neck— was just about all it took for Gojo to get the picture.
Then there was the way the guy whispered into your ear and you laughed-, no, giggled at whatever was said.
What else does Gojo need to know after that? Clearly you forgot who you’ve been dating for the past few years…
Which is why Gojo reminds you through rough backshots in the backseat of your car as soon as you return to him. He hand a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing your face down against the carseat as his toned hips clashed into your ass.
Swollen cockhead pushing past your twitching folds for the nth time while he bullies into your pussy. The loud smack of his balls against you fills the entirety of the vehicle, Gojo’s free hand pressing down into your arch and furthering it for him so he could angle his dick into that spot that makes you utterly weak.
“Wonder what the hell was so funny,” He huffs. He’s breathless by this point, having been dirty talking your ear off and giving you no time to respond— telling you how pretty your pussy looks taking every inch of him and how cute you sound crying his name into the seat.
“M-Mmgh, hnngh… ahh, S-Satoru,” Your voice was muffled against the carseat but neither of you cared, he heard you clear enough.
“Hm? What was so funny, baby? Tell me,” Gojo requests, not slowing his thrusts down for even a moment.
Merciless, he was. Fucking you like you were a goddamn slut off the street and he was a sex-deprived man, his pelvis was so angry against you, leaving marks with how harshly it met your ass, a hand moving every now and then just to palm the fat of the slight curve.
You were too busy drooling onto the carseat, cockdrunk out of your mind and fucked out beyond belief. You don’t think Gojo’s ever fucked you this hard before— the car was rocking with his every thrust and you’re pretty sure your muffled moans could be heard from outside the vehicle.
Sure, your windows had tint on them but it still wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what was going in within the car.
“What was he sayin’ t’you? Huh? Was he tellin’ you how badly he wants to fuck you? S’that why you laughed?” Gojo scoffs, still giving you no time to respond whatsoever, “I’d laugh too, shit… No one gets to fuck you aside from me, after all.” He finishes off with a cheeky little shrug.
You hated how much he was rambling right now but your brain was too consumed in pleasure to really care, “Toruu, fuuck-, oh, mmh…”
“No one else gets to feel this pussy suck the soul outta’ their cock, right?” Gojo groans, tossing his head back and drilling himself into the hilt, almost as if he were trying to reach deeper, “Jus’ me?”
All you can do is hum messily, “Mhmmm.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle and his hand lands across your ass again, head moving yo look down at the marks he’s left thus far before he cracks a smile, “Say it.”
“J-Jus’ you, ‘Toru.” Your voice was small, hardly audible but Gojo didn’t much care, he’d heard enough anyway.
So, he smiles at your struggle in speech, finding you nothing but adorable in this state, “Yeahh, that’s my girll.”
Then he’s moving his hands, feeling every inch of your body like he always does. There’s never a single part of you that goes untouched by Gojo Satoru when he fucks you. And as of right now, his large hands were taking place on your ass, spreading you apart to get a better look at your wet parted folds sucking in his cock.
“Pussy’s so fuckin’ pretty takin’ my dick like this too. I mean damn,” Gojo lets out a moan in between his sentence, unable to help himself at the sight before him, “Look at her drip all over me. She’s nasty, baby.”
Then he’s slowing his thrusts, but not stopping. Instead he gets calculated, fucking his cock in slow but pointed, top poking at your gummy spot and making your legs quake.
Drool smears across your cheek and your face was a goddamn mess but, you’d worry about all that later, “S-S’toru…”
“Mhm, I know, you’re about t’cum again, huh?” Gojo hums sweetly, the wet sounds of your cunt taking him in making his brows tense.
You were in complete disarray— debauched and filthy just how he liked. Shooting a glop of spit down onto his cock, he watched with a smile as he eases forward before there’s nothing more than an inch left out of you, only to thrust the last bit in and watch your fingers curl as you scrape against the seat.
“Uhuhh,” You breathe helplessly.
Gojo cocks his head to the side, “Gonna make another mess on me, pretty girl?”
“Y-Yeahh.”
“Mhm, good,” Gojo praises lightly before pulling out. He takes his cock into one of his hands and taps it against your pussy folds, listening to the light and wet smack his cock made against you and biting his lower lip, “But y’know… I wonder what had you so wet, baby.” He teases.
That was the only chance you got to catch your recently lost breath and you angle your head back a little to look at him, “Hm?”
Gojo’s eyes were down as he watched himself play with your pussy, smearing his leaky his tip in between your folds, “Was it him? Did he tell you how pretty you looked today? Hm?” Gojo wonders, “S’that why your cunt was droolin’ before I could even get your panties off?”
Your brows tense and you try wiggling your hips back a little, “N-No…”
“No? Aw, so what was it then?” Your boyfriend questions curiously. He’s now pushing an inch in and out of your cunt, watching how your pussy twitches everytime he pulls out and chuckling at you, “Surely it wasn’t the way I was rubbin’ my fingers against you… Nah, you were too busy thinkin’ about that other guy, right?”
You groan, “No, ‘Toru.”
He snickers, “No? Buut, you guys looked like you had a great convo.”
“W-We did but that’s only cause… hahh… mmmh, I-,” Gojo starts inching more of his cock into you and you struggle to finish explaining. After taking a deep breath, “I spent the whole time talkin’ a-about you.”
“Aww, really?” His hips snap forward after you say that, “Fuck, you bragged about me?” Gojo moans out, face growing hot with arousal.
Nodding, you hum in response, “Mhmm.”
“Shiit, that almost makes me feel bad,” Gojo pouts a little before shifting his palm over your ass, caressing your skin tenderly.
He’s still rutting his dick in and out of you but his voice and his touch is much softer.
“W-Why?” You ask.
“Cause’…. I’m fuckin’ you like you did somethin’ wrong for no reason…” Gojo whispers, seeming to be disappointed in himself for a second.
Then, he sees the way your eyes go back as his cock hits that one spot again, “Mmgh.. S-Satoru, r-right theree…”
And with that, he’s no longer disappointed and shrugs off all his doubts, going on to fuck you like he’s mad at you, “S’okay tho’, you like me like this anyway…”
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p.s. ty guys for 1k followers here :3
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joelscruff · 6 months ago
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is it that sweet? (joel miller x f!reader) 18+
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masterlist | a/n i've had no motivation to write lately but this randomly popped into my head the other day and suddenly my brain was like okay let's roll!! let's do this!! let's jump in!! so idk what that says about the current state of my subconscious. anyway this is filth! pls read the warnings! love u. summary: you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right? rating: 18+ explicit warnings: pervy!joel, age gap, voyeurism, coercion, objectification, sneaky picture taking, nude photos, paying for sexual favors, dirty talk, praise kink, pussy pronouns up the fuckin wazoo, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected p in v sex, standing sex, creampie word count: 8.4k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍
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He's been watching you for about an hour. You'd sussed him out almost immediately after settling onto your beach towel and digging into your bag for your sunscreen, mildly aware of the shape of him in your peripheral vision. He's old, definitely in his late fifties, but certainly not the most unattractive man who could be eyeing you. You're used to it by now anyway, almost feed into the way men seem to gawk at you sometimes now that you've finally thrown caution to the wind and stopped giving a fuck about your beach body. You used to be self conscious about your curves, your tummy, your thighs - you decided this summer that it had to stop.
And you're glad you did. Because now he's staring at you, this unnamed, completely anonymous middle aged man only a few feet away. And it feels fucking good.
Should it feel good? Probably not. Should you tell him to buzz off and leave you alone? Take a picture, it'll last longer, something like that? Probably. But will you? No.
You like feeling his eyes on you.
Older men like you, you've noticed. They stare. They stare more than men your own age - boys, really. Twenty somethings who try to play it cool and more often than not come across as disinterested in their interest. They're cowardly, obnoxious. And you suppose some older ones are too, especially the ones with wives - they want you to be impressed by them, ooh and awe over their high paying jobs and big mansions, their fancy cars that they think make up for their tiny dicks.
But every now and then you'll come across one like this. You can read him like a book, peering at him from over your sunglasses every so often as he lounges behind a vibrant blue umbrella. His eyes caress your bare shoulders and chest, your exposed stomach, your soft thighs. They linger on the places they shouldn't and it makes you tingle. He's appreciating what he sees, basking in it, taking his time.
You could be content just lying here and letting him look. He is handsome after all, greying curls and soft scruff flecked with white, golden skin that almost glows underneath the sun. His legs stretch out over his own towel, long and lean and strong. He's got a soft looking belly, hanging out a little bit over his trunks, and now your eyes linger for a little longer than they should.
But you won't say anything. If he wants to talk to you, he has every opportunity to. You're not going anywhere for at least another hour, not until the sun starts setting and it's time to head back to your friend's vacation home. You've only been in California for a short period of time, but it's like it's somehow molded you into a different person - a more confident, sexier version of yourself that's been dying to get out for years. A version of you who lets this old man stare and get his fill as you smirk and turn over on your towel, arching your ass up into the air.
Oh, he likes that. You can tell because of the way his jaw clenches, neck tightening as his eyes fall to the globes of your cheeks. With a barely there smirk, you arch a little more, stretching and flexing and letting him take in the way your bikini bottoms barely contain them. Your breasts hang low onto your towel, practically overflowing from their own containment, and you have to admit - you're getting a little wet posing for him like this.
He licks his lips, eyes flickering downward again to something closer to him, something in his hand. You crane your neck a little bit to peer around the blue umbrella, and your breath hitches.
He's taking pictures of you.
It's obvious now, should have been obvious this whole time, really. Only one of his hands has really been visible, the other settled low against his side behind the umbrella. Now you can see that he's got his phone angled toward you, the camera peeking slyly out from behind the blue nylon as he repeatedly taps his screen with his thumb. To test him a little further, make sure you're really seeing what you think you're seeing, you push down into the sand with your hands and rise up a little bit on the towel, almost into a lazy downward facing dog. Your tits jiggle below you, threatening to escape, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as the man adjusts the camera to get a better angle. His thumb and forefinger glide across the screen, undeniably - and unashamedly - zooming in.
You're definitely wet now. You know you shouldn't be. You know this has probably gone too far and you should get up and leave, potentially tell someone about the creep on the beach taking photos of women in bikinis.
Instead, you make eye contact with him, settling back down onto your towel with your ass still perched a little in the air. He seems to freeze, eyebrows going up in the realization that he's been caught. In response, you blink slowly at him, pout a little bit as if to say, Really? You arch your back a little more and shimmy your hips, tilting your head as you continue to gaze over at him, eyes going a little hooded.
Come fuck me, you're almost saying, even though you know there's no way in hell you're gonna let him. It's just funny to watch him squirm, phone gripped tight in his hand as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You arch a little more and then grind your hips into your towel, flattening yourself against it, holding his gaze. You rest your head and smile at him teasingly.
He's getting up and shuffling toward you in no time at all.
"Hi, darlin'," are the first words out of his mouth when he reaches you, and you certainly did not expect a Southern accent to fall from those plush lips. He's gorgeous really, now that you can see him up close - wide shoulders and big arms that strain against his white shirt, strong chest covered in little freckles, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in the sunlight.
"Hi," you say with a smile, blinking up at him.
"I'm sure you saw what I was doin'," he seems a little embarrassed, voice apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck, "I know I shoulda asked, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't wanna disturb you."
Bullshit, you only came over because I smiled at you. Any other reaction and you'd have run for the hills.
"I'm Joel," he reaches his hand down for you to take. For some reason, you shake it without hesitation. "I'm actually a photographer, believe it or not."
Huh. You raise an eyebrow at the words, doubt immediately swimming in your mind as you assess him.
"If you're a photographer, where's your camera?"
He chuckles, "Back at my hotel. I just came out here to relax, wasn't plannin' on takin' any photos. But then I saw you, and, well..." he smiles at you sheepishly, "You're just so pretty, darlin'. Never seen somebody like you before."
The words are not special. They're nothing you haven't already heard, nothing he hasn't probably already used on countless other women. And yet... you smile back at him, cheeks warming a little at the way the compliment sounds coming out of his mouth in particular, all Southern and sweet. "Thank you."
His eyes suddenly leave yours to flicker back toward your body again, scanning the length of you. As if on instinct, almost to show off, you tighten the muscles in your ass cheeks and then release, letting them jiggle a little bit under your swimsuit. He swallows tightly.
"Would you be interested in posin' for me, sweetheart? There's a little spot down the beach, outta sight. Still public though, of course. I wouldn't ask you to go anywhere unsafe," his eyes linger on your ass for a few more seconds before he's meeting your gaze again, soft and sincere, "I'd love to get some pictures of you in that bikini, and some with it off too, if you're comfortable with that."
Oh, he's fucking brave. You can feel disgust brewing in the pit of your stomach, a scowl beginning to dawn on your face. This is where you should draw the line. This is where you should get up and leave, tell him to go to hell, tell him he's a pervert and-
"I'll pay whatever you think is fair," he continues, "How's three hundred as a starting point?"
On second thought...
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"Beautiful, baby," he's telling you softly, "You're so pretty like that."
You hum in contentment, laying in the sand with a little smile tugging at your lips as Joel maneuvers around you with his phone, snapping pic after pic as you peer up at him through rays of sun. You're a little ways down the beach now, in a sparser area behind some rocks. He was right about it still being public - if something happened, you know you could raise your voice the tiniest bit and be heard immediately by people on the other side. Somehow though, despite his forwardness and slightly perverted habits, you trust that he isn't going to force anything on you.
You've already got three hundred dollars in your purse. He'd given it to you before you'd even gotten up from your initial spot on the beach, placed it in your hand with a grin as your eyes widened. You suppose you could've taken the money and run, but part of you wanted to play it out, test the limits, see what else he'd pay you for.
Which leads you here, laying sensually in the sand with the strings of your bikini dangling a little looser off your shoulders and hips, a little careless, a little more teasing. The poses so far have been pretty basic, and you've tried your best to emulate what you think a supermodel on the cover of Sports Illustrated would do. Based on Joel's responses - excited nods and gentle praises - you think you're doing a good job.
"Turn over now," he tells you with a playful grin, "Put that cute little ass in the air again for me."
It should be demeaning, the way he's talking to you. There's a lot about this situation that should be wrong, and yet you can't help but feel pride swell in your chest at his directions, his compliments. You do what he says, flipping over to dig your hands into the sand and arch your back, turning your head to eye the camera directly with a sultry little smile on your face.
"Perfect," he's murmuring, thumb tapping the screen like his life depends on it, "That's so perfect, honey." You listen to the fake little shutter sounds the phone makes, still wondering if he's even really a photographer. Would it even matter? Wouldn't you have still let him do this anyway?
With this new angle you can feel the loose strands of your bikini top starting to slip, unraveling at the back and trickling gently against your sides. You watch with what should be a worrying lack of urgency as it cascades down onto the sand below, leaving you topless.
He whistles low under his breath, "Well, would you look at that. The girls are out."
"That's an extra fifty," you say with a coy eyebrow raise, "Or else I cover them back up."
"Extra fifty, no problem" Joel echoes, "Can you shake your ass for me again, darlin'?"
You nod, tilting your head and peering back at him as you tighten and release your muscles with a giggle, basking in the way he stares at it, like it's a five course meal he's about to devour. You do it a few more times, arching your back a little more and spreading your thighs slightly to allow for more recoil, more jiggle. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat and you grin.
"How much to take these off too?" he lowers the phone and peers at you with pleading eyes, brown and soft, "Huh? How much extra to show me this lil' peach, honey?"
You grimace, looking down at the sand and trying to calculate an appropriate cost in your brain. You bite your lip, "You know that's not the only thing that'll show."
"I know," he murmurs, eyes trailing downward again to eye your ass, still perched high and plump, "Your peach and your pussy then, how much?"
Fuck.
"I won't touch you," he promises softly, "You can just tug it down and show her to me, lemme see her up close, yeah?"
Her?
Her.
"Christ," you mumble under your breath. He's filthier than you thought, and not in a bad way - in a fucking hot way. "Another fifty," you decide, voice firm, "And... and I wanna see you put the money in my purse first. And no touching my... her."
"I can do that, sweetheart," he's already digging into his wallet and yanking out the money, opening your bag slightly to place it inside. It could be counterfeit for all you know; this whole thing really might be a completely worthless venture, and yet -
He watches as you reach backward to untie the strings of your bikini bottoms, doing it in one fell swoop and then spreading your thighs again, knees digging into the sand. You arch and press your face against your towel, feeling goosebumps rise all over your skin at the knowledge that he's staring at where you're now completely bare.
You hear him groan, a rough little sound that goes straight to your core, and a few little shutter sounds go off, "Now, that's a pretty little pussy you got there, baby."
Heat rises throughout your body, up through your chest and to your cheeks. You turn a little to look at him shyly, lashes fluttering when you see where his gaze has settled.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, honey, she's so pretty," he breathes, "She's all wet. Leakin' for me, you see that?"
You can't see it of course, but you can feel it; feel the way you're dripping, knowing that he can see it, has a 1:1 view of the way you throb and drool for him. This random old man who about twenty minutes ago you'd never spoken to in your life.
"And your little clit is sayin' hi to me too, babygirl, can see her pokin' out." Fuck. You squirm a little in place as his camera continues to go off, legs spreading a little more unconsciously as you tilt your head downwards and close your eyes. Your clit twitches under his stare.
"Swollen little thing," he breathes, barely loud enough to hear, "Perfect pussy."
Jesus Christ.
"Roll over for me again, sweetheart," you hear him say quietly, "Show me all those pretty parts."
You don't know why, but you whine a little at his words. It's subconscious, a burning desire you can't describe as you slowly flip over and lazily lay back on your towel to show him your entire naked body. He stands over you with his brow furrowed in a gentle kind of way, eyes appraising you up and down like you're some kind of goddess. And fuck, he's kind of making you feel like one.
"Legs open a little bit, baby, that's it." You obey, spreading your legs and looking up at him with lidded eyes, lips parting a little. You bring your arms up to rest behind your head and he takes note of the way your tits bounce for him, shivering back and forth beneath his gaze. "You're perfect," he murmurs, "You're absolutely perfect."
"Stop," you say, unable to stop a grin from spreading across your face, "M'not perfect."
"But you are, darlin'," he shakes his head, eyes full of wonder as he kneels down to get some closer pictures. You watch as he brings his phone down directly in front of your pussy, snaps a few close-ups of your puffy lips and swollen clit. "I'd love to kiss her, honey, if you'd let me."
"N-no," you say quickly, though your voice cracks, "No touching."
"I'll pay you extra," his eyes return to yours, locking your gazes, "You name it, baby. I'll pay anything to taste how sweet you are down here."
You look at him calculatingly, tilting your head. Anything?
"Two hundred," you practically whisper, "In the bag."
You're half expecting him to tell you that he's run out of money, that he couldn't possibly give you any more than the four hundred he's already blown on this. But he surprises you, reaching back into his pocket to grab his wallet and tug out the bills. It's like he has an endless supply, and you're beginning to wonder if maybe this is a hobby of his, something he prepares for, carries money around to be ready to spend on women like you. Maybe he's rich rich, has unlimited money to throw away, and this is just his weird perverted thing he does on the side of something else.
Maybe you should have asked for more.
But he's already kneeling back down into the sand and you're already opening your legs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them and lean his head forward to place his lips gently against your pussy. You watch with heavy lids as he kisses you so softly there, his mouth tender and inviting and deliciously scratchy from his scruff. Without really thinking about it, you reach down and run a hand through his curls, smiling a little fondly as he kisses you again, and again, and again.
"That feels nice," you breathe, watching as he continues to press incredibly slow and gentle kisses to your cunt in an almost respectful way, a reverent way.
"Good," he murmurs, lips vibrating against your core, "Want it to feel nice for you, baby."
You let out a soft moan the second his tongue breaches your folds, wet and warm. You watch as he closes his eyes and seems to get lost in it, tasting your pussy like it - or she, as he'd said - is some rare delicacy he's never indulged in before. He trails the tip of his tongue through the mess you've made, maneuvering your puffy lips and flicking it against your clit. Your hips buck and another moan slips out, quiet and pitiful.
"That's it," he murmurs against you with a little half smile, "So sweet for me, honey." He dives back in immediately and slowly plunges his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you a few times before carefully pulling back and opening his eyes to peer up at you again. God, those brown eyes are fucking sinful. He gives you one more smile and then reaches down to grab his phone.
"Gonna get some more pics of this messy girl, okay?" he breathes, and you're a little startled when his left hand is suddenly coming down to touch you there, two fingers carefully scissoring you open. You don't say anything, too horny to protest, too intrigued to see what he's going to do. "Gotta open her up a little," he tells you softly, answering your unspoken question, "Wanna take a little peek at what she's hidin' inside her, baby."
A little whimper falls from your throat again as his fingers scissor you wider, holding you open and baring your hole to his camera. You can feel your walls twitching and pulsing, contracting and leaking; you can only imagine what it looks like. Your eyes roll a little when his middle finger taps your clit, another gush of arousal flooding past your opening.
"Look at this lil' hole, huh?" he's murmuring, but your eyes are closing and your head is falling back onto the towel as he plays with you, "Oh, she's alllll messy for me down here, baby. And it's no wonder your clit came out to see me, she loves gettin' played with, don't she?"
Christ, he knows how to talk. His words send another helpless little sound past your lips, thighs trembling as he slowly caresses your clit with his finger, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure.
"Aw, you're all sticky here again, baby," he whispers and you whine, feeling your juices dribble down toward your ass, "Shh, I'll take care of it," and then he's leaning back in to lap at your folds, a little faster this time, more desperate, "Tastes so good, pretty girl. So sweet."
He suckles your clit into his mouth and you let out a breathless moan, brow furrowing as he suctions the swollen nub and lets one of his fingers fall to slip inside your entrance. You're so close you can feel it, coiled inside and ready to snap at any moment, his thick index plugging you deliciously as his tongue swirls. You tighten around it, thighs squeezing a little around his head, and then-
He's pulling away, removing his mouth and finger. Your eyes flutter open and you watch as he stands up with a little groan, older age apparent in the way he clutches at his back and exhales once he's upright. You want to tell him to get back down here, finish what he started, but part of you feels like it'd almost be letting him win, somehow. This perverted creep on a public beach that's somehow managed to lure you away and get you naked, take photos of your body and eat your pussy. He doesn't deserve to have you beg for him - even if you want to.
"Can you stand up for me now, honey?" he tilts his head, squinting against the sun and smiling like he didn't just ruin your orgasm.
On shaky legs, you manage to pull yourself up from the sand and stand before him in all your naked glory, legs crossing a little as you squeeze your thighs together. He smirks but doesn't say anything about it, instead angling his phone toward you again and snapping some full length photos. You immediately do your best to go back into Sports Illustrated mode, posing a little and trying to ignore the ache between your legs, the relentless throb of where his mouth just was.
"Squeeze your tits together for me," he tells you, voice a bit deeper, rougher, full of arousal, "Cup 'em a little, show me those cute lil' nipples."
You do as he says, biting your lip and showing the camera exactly what he wants to see. Your nipples are peaked and hard, begging to be teased and tugged, but you refuse to do it yourself - you're not giving him the satisfaction, not after what he just pulled. He takes a few up-close pictures, camera so close to them that you shiver with sensitivity, the smallest bit of air from his movements causing them to tighten even more.
"Those are so beautiful, baby," he murmurs softly, gaze trailing upwards to meet yours, "Can I give 'em a kiss too?" God, his eyes are so fucking soft and sincere, like fucking boba pearls. You wonder if anyone's ever been able to say no to him.
You swallow, keeping eye contact, "For another fifty, sure."
He chuckles at that, "You drive a hard bargain, darlin'."
"I know what I'm worth."
He smiles, nodding slowly, "That, you do." He pulls out his wallet and slips another bill into your bag, then shuffles toward you again. You try to keep your breathing calm when one of his hands comes up to cradle your bare back, pulls you in a little bit as he lowers his mouth to your right nipple. With hazy eyes, you watch as he presses the softest little kiss to it, then does the same to the left.
Part of you wants to pull back and say that's it, that's all you get, just to see what he does, give him a taste of his own medicine. But then he's wrapping his lips around the pebbled bud and suckling, your eyes going glassy, jaw dropping a little as your hands come up to hold his shoulders. Your pussy throbs at the sensation, thighs rubbing together again as he suctions just the right amount and swirls his tongue all over the hard peak. It's impossible not to let a quiet moan fall past your lips, something he returns with a little mmhmm around your nipple, a wordless I know.
It feels so good that you feel your guard going down even more than it already has, feel your head falling forward to rest against his. His greying hair is so soft, so warm from the sun. You blink slowly and inhale, cheek smooshing into his temple as he sucks and sucks and sucks, then turns his attention to the other one. Little whimpers are tumbling past your lips, your hands squeezing and caressing his shoulders as you feel yourself starting to drip down your inner thighs.
It's so fucking intimate, much more intimate than you anticipated. And when he finally pulls away and comes back up to peer into your eyes again, leaving your nipples puffy and a little sore, you betray yourself by leaning forward to kiss him softly, tugging his bottom lip into your mouth and returning the favor with a little suckle. You feel him smile against you, the hand on your back tightening as he brings his other one up to tangle in your hair. His lips are plush and wet - a little chapped from what he's just done to your nipples - and he tastes like pussy.
It's fucking heavenly.
"I wanna show you somethin', babygirl," he murmurs against you after a moment, and you nod a little too quickly, a little pathetically. You're starting to realize that you're losing the battle here, if there ever even was one.
He pulls back a little, eyes still soft. You watch as he reaches down to his swim trunks and unties them, heart suddenly in your throat as he slips his hand inside and comes out with an absolutely beautiful dick. It's long and thick, rounded and full at the tip with an extremely suckable looking mushroom head, as well as a prominent vein trailing up his shaft that makes your mouth water. You both stare at it for a few seconds without speaking, your lips parting but no words coming to mind.
"You wanna take some pictures with my cock, honey?" he asks you quietly, and you think he's probably looking at your face now, watching your expression, but you're still just staring at his dick.
"W-what?"
"Just a few, like...well..." he shuffles forward a bit and very gently presses the warmth of his cock against your bare stomach, letting the tip sit just above your belly button, "Like this."
Your brain is blank.
"That okay?"
His cock is so heavy.
"Darlin'?"
And warm.
He pushes some of your hair behind your ear, cradles your face in his big hand, "I know, honey," he murmurs, "You just gotta say okay."
Okay?
"O-okay," you finally whisper.
"Yeah?"
Yeah. You think it but don't say it, can't say it. You feel beyond overwhelmed, eyes still glued to where his throbbing tip is smooshed into your belly. You can't stop looking at it, ogling it, awed by its impressiveness and girth, the way it leaks a little onto your skin. You've never seen a dick this pretty before. You almost forget that you're standing there without any clothes on, barely aware of the shutter sound as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone.
"Good girl," he murmurs softly, "That's a good girl, just look at it."
Every few seconds he repositions a little, pulling you in closer to capture the way his cock stands at attention between your bodies. Precum gurgles from the tip and makes a sticky mess in his happy trail, dribbling down onto your skin. Without thinking about it at all, completely unaware of even doing it, your arms are suddenly around his waist, holding him close with your gaze still locked onto his cock.
"Yeah, that's for you, baby," he tells you softly, grinding his hips a little bit against yours and essentially fucking his cock against your stomach, "You did that to me."
It's only when he suddenly takes a small step back, holds the base and angles it downward to gently prod the sticky head against your pussy lips, that you finally come to your senses.
"Wait," you gasp out, yanking yourself back from him and shaking your head, "W-wait a second."
"M'sorry," he says quickly, brow furrowing as he puts his hands up. His cock hangs from his trunks almost comically, bobbing up and down as he takes a step back, "Shoulda asked first."
"Y-yeah, you should've," your voice cracks, heat flooding your face, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me just then, that was too far." Why the fuck are you apologizing to him?
"S'not too far," his words are gentle, alluring, "We're just havin' fun, aren't we honey? You were havin' fun, got lost in it. It's okay."
You take a breath, staring at him as you try to get your bearings. Were you having fun? Is this fun? What the fuck are you even doing right now? Your thoughts are cloudy, hazed with arousal and attraction to this complete stranger in front of you. Are you really gonna let this continue? Is it really worth it? Your gaze falls back to his cock and the question is almost answered for you.
"What am I doing?" you ask aloud, a breathless little laugh escaping your lips.
"You're just havin' fun with a new friend, s'all it is."
You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble, "Is that what you are? My friend?"
"I'll be anything you want me to be, darlin'," his mouth turns up at the corners, eyes sparkling, "I sure would like to be your friend."
He peers at you for a moment, waiting for you to speak. Your mouth opens a few times but no words come out, your thoughts scrambled as you try to make heads or tails of this situation. You're suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're still completely naked, and you quickly peek your head over the rock formation to make sure there's nobody nearby - there isn't.
Why are you checking?
"C'mere," Joel finally says, and you turn back to look at him with your lip between your teeth. He's standing there with his arms open a bit, cock still heavy between his legs. By all accounts, a fucking perv. And yet...
And yet.
Fuck it.
You're back in his embrace in no time, hooking your head over his shoulder and allowing his cock to press warmly into your skin again. You close your eyes and sigh as he brings one of his hands downward to squeeze your ass.
You know what he's going to ask before he even says it.
"Can I put it inside you, darlin'?" he murmurs softly, pleadingly, "Just to get a pic of your pussy all full?"
You don't say anything.
"Won't take more than a minute," he urges, "I promise, baby. Just wanna see it stretched around my cock. Don't you wanna see that, pretty girl? I'll pay extra, whatever you want."
More silence.
"I know you wanna see it," he's relentless, his other hand coming down to squeeze your other cheek and pull you impossibly closer, "You wanna feel that, don't you, baby? Big cock fillin' you up before you go?" His middle finger slides between your cheeks and settles at your pussy, slowly teasing your entrance, "Don't gotta do anything at all, just gotta stand here, we'll do it standin' honey."
"Standing?" you ask softly, pulling back to look at him with intrigue, and your response suddenly has him grinning from ear to ear as he slowly inserts his finger. You shiver, eyes fluttering closed as he fills you with it.
"Standin'," he repeats, "Just like this, baby, don't gotta do anything 'cept open your legs a little for me. You can do that, can't you?" The hand on your ass comes up to hold your chin; he pinches it gently between his finger and thumb and gives you another soft look as he starts to fuck you in earnest, "I know you can, 'cause you're a good girl, yeah?"
"Y-yeah," you breathe, arms tightening around his body.
"Yeah," he adds a second finger, smile faltering into a sympathetic pout when you let out another soft moan, "And you want that cock, don't you? I can see it all over your face, honey. Don't gotta pretend."
"I do," you whisper with a nod, swallowing thickly and trembling in his arms, "I want it, I do."
"So..." he's waiting for you to say the words, to tell him to go ahead and put it in, do what he wants, let him take control. His fingers are relentless inside of you now, plunging in and out at a speed you know he's purposely using to distract you, cloud your decision making.
Which is why his eyebrows go up in surprise when you're suddenly reaching down to grab tightly to his wrist, yanking his fingers out of your pussy in one swift pull.
"Three hundred," you state, "Take it or leave it."
To your surprise, his face alights with a gigantic smile, a deep laugh tumbling past his lips as he nods and digs his hand into his pocket, seeking his wallet one more time, "Yes, m'aam," he grins, "I'll take it."
You've never had sex standing up before. Not like this, face to face and completely upright with your feet planted on the ground. It's a little awkward at first, Joel having to crouch a little to align his hips with yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other grips his phone. God, this fucking phone. You're pretty sure you'll never wanna see a phone case with this ugly shade of cerulean blue again, let alone hear those obnoxious shutter sounds.
Your annoyance is quickly overpowered by the sensation of the warm head of Joel's cock pressing gently to your pussy. You look down to watch, lip between your teeth again as Joel snaps image after image of the way his tip crowds your outer lips, pushes them apart. You have to admit, it's certainly a sight to behold.
"Yeah, look at her open for me, baby," he's murmuring, thumbing the base as he slowly rubs his cockhead back and forth through your folds, "Bloomin' like a little flower."
The top of your head rests against his shoulder, face angled down to watch what he's doing. A tiny whimper falls from your lips when he very slowly eases the head of his cock inside of you, the stretch barely noticeable with how wet you are. He releases your hip to reach down and open your pussy lips with his thumb and forefinger, exposing where you're joined.
"Tell her to smile for the camera, babygirl," he whispers, and while part of you wants to roll your eyes, another part can't help but feel a gush of arousal at his words, soaking his cock even more, "Good, that's good."
He feeds his cock to you slowly, making sure to take as many pictures as he can. Little whines and squeaks erupt from your throat and your hands claw at his back, fingers tangling in the white crocheted material as he fills you up. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside of you that he suddenly tugs his trunks down a little more to expose his balls, heavy and round and full. You stare at them with a longing in your eyes you can't describe, lower lip trembling as you watch them bounce and settle against where you're joined.
"There you go," he murmurs, snapping one last picture before tossing his phone into the sand and bringing his hands up to cradle your back, pulling you close, "All done, baby, that's it."
Your toes curl in the sand as you embrace the feeling of being so full of him, his tip pulsing delicately inside the deepest parts of you. A distant thought in your brain wonders why he just threw his phone on the ground, but it doesn't seem to matter when you feel like this, so full and wet and warm, lost in a hazy glow. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out quiet little whimpers as he pulls you in tighter. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, seemingly reveling in the moment too as you stand there listening to the ocean waves, impaled on a stranger's cock.
"How's that feel, honey?" he asks you softly, thumbs tracing shapes along your bare back, "Hm? Feel good?" You don't answer, just nuzzle your face against his skin and let out another soft whine, hands clamoring underneath his shirt to grip his back. He chuckles, "Yeah, I know, baby."
You both stand there for what feels like forever, until you finally have enough sense to pull away from his shoulder and get a look at his face. He's watching you fondly, brow furrowed, eyes still incredibly soft and inviting. He really is gorgeous. Pervy, but gorgeous.
"You dropped your phone," you mumble, words faint and slightly slurred.
"Don't need it anymore," he murmurs, "Got my pictures."
"Then why are you still inside me?" you ask softly, eyelashes fluttering, "If you're done?"
He shrugs, smiling, "'Cause it feels good, don't it?"
You stare at him for a few seconds but end up nodding regardless, turning your face a little to peer over at the ocean, "It does," you admit, "Feels really good."
"Mmhmm," he kisses the top of your head again, then your temple, stroking his fingers through your hair. The way he touches you is reverent, delicate, like you're something fragile he needs to keep safe. It's not what you'd expected, that's for sure. But something you're not as sure about is what happens now, where you both go from here.
It doesn't take long for him to decide.
You feel his thumb on your clit, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his presence. You peer at him through bleary eyes, a dazed little smile curving your lips as he carefully rotates the swollen nub. His belly caresses yours, warm and soft, and you smile even wider.
"Feel good?" he asks you again - tender, kind.
"Yeah," you whisper.
The hand on your back comes up to cradle your hair, pulling you in close again and allowing you to rest your head against his smooth chest. You moan as his thumb picks up speed, the sound muffled by his tan skin.
"You want me to make you come, honey?" he murmurs, fingers brushing carefully through your hair, "You wanna come all over that big cock inside you?"
"Yeah," you repeat, a little broken this time, "W-wanna come."
"You've been so fuckin' good for me, you know that?" he breathes, barely a whisper, brow furrowed as he continues to rub your clit, "Posin' all pretty, showin' me that soft little pussy, lettin' me taste her," he gives a low whistle, shaking his head, "And now she's all full, huh? She full?"
You nod, eyes rolling a little, "Y-yeah." Apparently yeah is currently one of the only words in your vocabulary.
"She all messy for me?"
Again, you nod, expression blissful as you let out a moan, "Yes, Joel," you whimper, and you're pretty sure it's the first time you've said his name this whole time. It's like you've been trying to be disconnected from it, from him, and now suddenly he's everywhere; inside you, in front of you, above you - there's no escaping him. And you don't want to escape - what you want is him. Badly. Desperately.
He seems to realize this at the exact same time you do, the moment he hears his name fall from your lips. Which is why you're not surprised in the slightest by his next words.
"What if I wanted a pic of my cum leakin' outta this little pussy?" he whispers, mouth suddenly directly next to your ear, sending insane amounts of pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body, "Huh? How much would that cost? Tell me."
"You can't," you mumble, lightheaded, but you're lying to yourself, completely lost in the pleasure he's giving you, the movement of his thumb and the girth of his cock.
"Only take a few seconds, honey, m'already close," as he speaks, you feel his hips slowly begin to buck, cock pulling from you for only a moment before easing back in, making you shudder, "You don't gotta do nothin', 'cept show me how she drools when she's full. You can do that, can't you baby?"
"Joel," you whine again, eyes shut tight as you dig your toes into the sand, holding tight to his back as he slowly starts to fuck up into you. He's so big, so thick, plugging you full and then leaving you again, slow and warm. You can only imagine how it would feel to have him burst inside of you, to fill you to the brim.
"I wanna see her drool, honey," he murmurs, voice desperate again, full of arousal, "Wanna see her push it out."
"Fuck," you moan, high and whiney as you suddenly grip both sides of his face in your hands to peer directly into his eyes, "A thousand," you whimper, your hands clawing at his scruff as his hips pick up speed, as his hands fall to your waist and hold tightly as he starts to pound up into you, "A thousand and you can come in my pussy."
He presses his forehead against yours, lets out a guttural sound and then hisses, "Deal."
And for some reason, you believe him.
Getting pounded while standing upright is a fucking trip. His nails dig into the pebbled flesh of your hips, knees bending and unbending as his cock fucks up into you relentlessly without stopping or slowing. Your hands are still holding his face, eyes locked with his as your mouth pops open in a silent scream, thumbs digging into the apples of his cheeks. Holy fucking shit.
"I know, I know, I know," he's groaning, voice wild and unhinged, groans vibrating in his chest, "Fuckin' take it, s'what you were made for, honey. Knew it the second I saw you, knew you were gonna go wild on that dick."
"Please," you moan out, tears pricking in your eyes, the sensations almost too much to bear, "Please, please." You don't even know what you're begging for, thoughts muddled as you release his face and wind your arms around his neck, "Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, don't stop, please."
"I got you, honey, I got you," you feel his thumb return to your clit as he speaks, the sounds of your skin slapping together almost rivalling the sound of the ocean waves, "You gonna come, pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cream on my cock?"
"Yes," you practically squeal, and before you can really process what you're doing you're suddenly jumping up from the sand to wrap your legs around Joel's waist, ankles tangling together behind his back. He has no issue shifting positions, his arm cradling you and holding you in the air while his thumb continues to ravage your clit. You feel it building in your stomach, tightening more and more with the insistent pressure of his thumb and the continuous thrusts of his dick hitting your cervix over and over.
"Ohh, I feel her, baby," he groans in your ear, "Sloppy little cunt wants to make another mess, doesn't she?" And that's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Joel's body as you moan and whine and cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking in his arms. It's like having the wind knocked out of you, arguably one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life, your eyes rolling back into your head as you sob into his neck.
"Joel," you whimper, pussy pulsing repeatedly around his dick through the aftershocks, "Joel, come inside her, please."
"Oh, fuck."
You feel it then, the twitch of his cock and the warm ropes of his release pumping into you. You sigh almost dreamily, burying your face in his shoulder and listening as he groans, feeling the way his fingertips dig into the soft plush of your ass. It's steady - there's so much more than you thought there'd be, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper again, murmuring his name one more time as he empties himself.
You stay like that for a moment, the ocean loud in your ears, all other sounds seemingly drowned out by the hiss of sea against rock and sand. Eventually, he carries you a few steps to your towel, your ears ringing and his body trembling a little as he carefully lowers you down. You let go of him a bit reluctantly, a pout on your lips as he lays you out and then slowly pulls himself from you with a wet squelch.
"Good girl," he's murmuring - you realize he's been saying it the whole time - "Good girl, that's it, open your legs."
There's no hesitance at all anymore, not after that. You open your legs wide with abandon and sit up on your hands, watching with heavy lids as he grabs his phone from where he'd discarded it, bringing it down to your leaking pussy.
"Look at that," he breathes, awestruck, and your eyes trail downward to see what he sees. You feel heat return to your cheeks when you see the way his creamy white release is slowly beginning to dribble out of you and onto the towel.
"Wow, that's a lot," you whisper with a faint little giggle, eyes coming back up to look at his face as he watches it drip. You're not sure he hears you, intensely focused on where you're swollen and leaking, but you don't mind. You push back lazily on your hands and smile fondly at him as he takes his precious photos. In the afterglow, you find that the shutter sounds aren't that annoying, not really.
"Open her up for me, baby," he tells you softly, "Spread her wide and push it out."
You sit up a little, feeling drowsy and dreamy as you reach down and pull yourself open with your hands. You apply a little pressure, closing your eyes in a daze and hearing the wet little sounds as you push his cum out of you and onto the towel. You hear him groan, hear the shutter sounds again, and you can't help but grin.
"Are they good?" you ask him, genuinely wondering, "Is she pretty?" As you speak you pull yourself a little wider, allow him to take one more picture as close inside as possible before he pulls it away.
He looks up from his handiwork with that familiar soft smile on his face again, brown eyes shimmering in the sun that's already beginning to set, "You're perfect," he tells you, "And don't argue with me, I just gave you almost two thousand dollars."
You snort, releasing yourself and falling backwards onto the towel to stare up at the sky. Your limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping as you watch Joel in your periphery slipping his soft cock back into his trunks, as well as his phone.
"It's real money, right?" you ask, a little unsure.
"I promise it's real money," he says with a chuckle, walking over to stand over you, "D'you wanna come back to my hotel with me and get cleaned up? Maybe have some more fun?"
You bite your lip, "Would you pay me?"
"I'd pay you."
Admittedly, as reality begins to wash over you, the idea doesn't sound anywhere near as appealing as it might have an hour ago. With a little effort, you sit up again and reach for your bikini, half buried in the sand near your feet.
"Nah, I think I'm good."
Joel reaches his arm down and you take it, letting him help you to your feet. As you put your bikini back on, you watch with a little smile as he digs the rest of your money out of his wallet, slipping it into your purse like it's just second nature at this point - which, it basically is. He stands there then, a little awkwardly, like he's not sure what to say.
"Well, uh, thank you, darlin'," he finally says, taking a step back and nodding toward you with a kind expression, "Not many girls would have, um... not many would've done this. I'd offer you my number, but I get the feeling that's not what this is."
You wince, shaking your head, "Yeah, this, uh- this isn't gonna go anywhere, sorry. But it was fun."
He nods, "It was. And, I mean, those pictures aren't just gonna collect dust, I can tell you that much."
You laugh, walking forward a little to pick up your bag. You stop in front of him and, after hesitating for only a moment, lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. Just a peck - a goodbye.
"Have a good rest of your summer," you tell him as you pull away, heat rising in your cheeks again as he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, "And uh- maybe try to be a little more covert with that camera."
This time it's his turn to blush, his cheeks tinging a dark shade of pink as he laughs and tosses you a wave, turning to begin walking away from you. He only makes it a few steps, and then-
"Hey, Joel?"
He turns on the spot, a hopeful look in his expression that makes you wonder, if only for a moment, that maybe you're making the wrong choice.
"You're not really a photographer, are you?"
His blush deepens, a look of embarrassment crossing his features, "No, I'm not. But after today, I just might try my hand at it."
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hoshigray · 8 months ago
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Hey, can I request some Toji, please? 👉🏻👈🏻 having sex with him after an argument and silent treatment for several days, but not like wild fucking, but kinda intimate and passionate 😔 like imagine you finally make up after an argument and he missed you soooo much and he want to kiss everywhere, look you in the eyes and praise the hell out of you 🥺
Damn, I need soft Toji bad 😭 wish you a great day 🫶🏻
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: arguing!? make up sex!?!? with soft dom toji!!??? ahhhhhhh—
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - implied argument + make-up sex - kissing/making out - Daddy kink - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - anvil/mating press + spooning positions - cockwarming - praise - unprotected sex - multiple orgasms - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweet baby, sweetie) - Toji being whipped + missing you, i'm so soft - itty bitty angst in beginning + fluff on SMUT on fluff - mention os spit/drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k
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Toji didn’t like having arguments with you. They made you distant from him, pushed him away, and he’ll feel like utter shit until things subside after kissing and making up. And when the tension between you lasts for an entire week? Oh, that makes him experience a new gut-wrenching definition of guilt. 
Avoiding him is a torture he doesn’t want from you — oh, he can’t stand it. When you use the shower in the morning after he uses it in the nighttime, when your eyes don’t acknowledge his existence, or when you sleep far into your side of the bed with your back to him while he’s in a state of unease trying to find sleep without your warmth on him. 
A whole week of nothing but side glances and avoiding being in the same place as him, especially in your shared apartment. With every passing day, the pressure growing felt like you two were drifting apart — something Toji would never want between you. He already lost one love of his life; the mere thought of losing another was strong enough to have his stomach drop. 
It drives him so fucking crazy, especially when you’re in the kitchen washing dishes, Megumi and Tsumiki are at a sleepover, and him on the living room couch, supposedly watching sports highlights. But he can’t; his thoughts are too occupied reflecting on you — missing you. God, did he miss you — so fucking much that he shuts the television off and walks to the kitchen with a purpose. 
He brings you in with an embrace, spooking the daylights out of you that you almost jumped. You thank your stars you were done washing the dishes by the time he came around, or else he’d give you another thing to be mad about. “J-Jesus, Toji…! Scaring me like that, what are you—“
“I’m sorry.”
Two words — that’s all it takes to silence you, and your body stiffens in his hold. Toji takes this time to indulge in having you in his arms after such a break, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your abdomen and his face buried in the crook of your neck. The way your breath hitches at his lips on your shoulder, he kisses the skin exposed from your tank top. Fuck, you make him go insane.
“I don’t want us like this, baby,” he proceeds, sighing deeply when his hand creeps to your wet one to grasp. “Pushin’ you away from me like this, it’s drivin’ me crazy. Don’t avoid me because of dumb shit I did or said.” You were listening intently; the TV was off, so there’s no way you’d be ignorant enough to close him off. But you didn’t say anything yet, making the raven-haired man keep going. “This silent treatment, it’s fuckin’ with me; sleepin’ far on one side with y’r back to me, taking showers at different times, and not looking at me in the eye…” A kiss to the neck has you breathing cautiously. “Makes me think I’m losin’ you, and I don’t want that. So….I’m sorry.”
He can’t lie; the stillness between you two has him anxious, barely keeping it together and fighting the quiver of his fingers from showing. He nearly misses your signal — slapping his forearm wrapped around your stomach. Toji loosens his hold on you, and you turn around to face him. It feels like it’s been forever since the last time your eyes were on his for more than a second, and he freezes at the touch of your hands cupping his face.
“You’d never lose me, Toji,” you say to him in a whisper so the world doesn’t intervene with this moment. You bring your face to him to kiss the scar on his lip and return the hug. “And I’m sorry, too.”
There’s hesitance when he circles his arms around your waist again, but your frame on him gradually puts him at ease. “Sorry ‘bout what?” 
You peer up at him with your chin on his chest. Goddamn, your beauty was unreal. “For not apologizing sooner.” 
Toji hums with an aimless nod. “So,” he brings a hand to cup your cheek, and you lean to his touch. “Are we cool?” You nod with a smile. “Good.”
You repeat. “Good.”
A few seconds go by when his viridian orbs are locked in with yours before his face draws in close. “I missed you…”
Your eyes instinctively close. “I miss—Mmm.”
Your sentence is cut off at the contact of his lips on yours, asking for permission by laying himself onto you more and licking your bottom lip. With your hands enveloping his neck, you open your mouth to receive him. A moan slips out when he pushes his tongue gently, the hand on your cheek coming around to hold you by the back of your head. 
The kiss gets hot and steamier with every peck, the hand on your waist slithering down to grope your ass hiding inside your leggings. You wail as your frame hits the sink, and Toji uses this to cage you into him. A strong leg comes in between yours, having you essentially ride him as you lovingly suck his tongue. And it gets intense when he slams his face to yours, taking in your sweet noises that poke him to make more. 
Sounds of lips smacking together fill the kitchen space, and your hands find their way inside his sweatshirt to roam over his back. And Toji loves your touch on him; how he yearned to feel your fingers on his skin again.  
Oxygen is needed to carry on, so he breaks the kiss for you both to breathe. Heavy pants are shared at the union of your foreheads pressing together. You huff prettily with hooded eyes up to him, unveiling a smile as your fingers play with the black strands on his nape.
“I missed you, too, Toji." You finally say to him, sealing the fate for what’s to happen into the night.
“Hahhh, fuck, keep suckin’ me like that, mama…Shit, I missed this.”
You two are now in the comfort of your shared bedroom, no longer acting like strangers in your bed. Hands and lips show no interest in being away from bodies; Toji, in particular, uses this time to get his calloused hands drunk on feeling your curves, dents, and skin. 
And you’re on the same boat, placing soft kisses on whatever place you can find. His lips, his clavicle, sneaking inside his sweatshirt to tweak and lick his nipples before trailing down to the dent of his sweats. Pulling the pants down sprung out his hard-on, and you feverishly greet his cock with your mouth. 
Toji gets lost in the sensation of your lips and tongue, gripping the sheets at his dick and being swallowed whole into your warm throat. Fuck, you were so good at this, using your hands to stroke him as you sucked his glans harshly while gingerly massaging his balls. Your humming on him feels so good that his hand goes to your head to steady himself. 
“Fucking Christ,” he curses under his breath, and his hips jerk to create friction. He wants to come so bad, stuff your face with his dick, and pump his load into you. But no, not right now. He taps your cheek, and you bat your eyes at him. “Mmm, c’mon, sweetie. Let’s switch.”
You take out his cock from your mouth and a string of saliva sticks to you and his cockhead. “But you didn’t—“
“Don’t worry; I will later,” he squishes your cheeks, wiping spit from the corners of your lips. And he means that because being one with you is what he wants more than anything tonight.
But before that, he needs to have you be prepared for him. After all, it has been a week.
“—Ahhhh, ahhhh, Tojiii, I just came…!”
“There you go, baby,” his baritone voice rocked to your core, his tongue licking and sucking the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep makin’ a mess for me...”
He nestled between your legs, his mouth stuffed in the proximity of your cunt that’s been orally stimulated for the past few minutes now. All for the sake of prep, yet Toji missed being close to your vagina like this, sucking your slick with ease.
Fuck, your taste in his buds was nearly nostalgic. It all felt familiar — felt right. His tongue swirled around your labia to make you whimper, shoving it inside your entrance to essentially fuck you on his tongue, resulting in pretty screams as you grab tuffs of raven hair. And since you just came, your legs trembled with sensitivity, trying to close your legs to shield yourself.
But that’s not what’s happening tonight, not with Toji. His hands easily hold your legs by the back of your knees, exposing your beautiful, soapy chaos of a chasm to him for him to enjoy. His face is so crowded between your legs and folds that his nose bumps and presses to the hood of your clit. You cry at his hold on you, forced to take whatever his tongue gives you.
“Moohhh, hooohh, To’jiiiii,” you’re shrieking when he laps on your clitoris, and your frame jolts from the onslaught. “Stooohhhpp! I can’t…!”
“Yes, you can,” he removes himself from your slit, licking your essence plastered on his scarred lips. Toji rests his head on the thigh where his hand is massaging. A low chortle leaves him when you shake your head, sneaking his free hand to your cunt where his middle and forefinger insert efficiently. You gasp sharply, and his thick digits go to work. “Don’t tell Daddy you can’t, sweet baby; I need you to be all wet for me.”
The title he uses on himself has your walls twitch on him. “Hahhh, I’m wet enough…Ohoo!!”
“Aht, aht, none of that,” he coos while pressing a thumb on your clit, and you wail at him as he makes circles on your bud. “Gotta have you all ready for me…” The squelches of his fingers exploring your insides are hot to hear. Fucking Christ, Toji couldn’t get enough of you, trying to fight the urge to plunge his mouth back on your cunt when you smell too good to resist. 
His eyes flickered back to your face when you shudder at the scrape of his blunt fingertips on your velvety texture. “D-Daddyyy, I’m gonna cummm…”
You make him snicker. “Yeah? You gonna cum?” He takes his tongue and runs an excruciatingly sluggish lick to your clit; it has you gripping the sheets. “Gonna make a mess on Daddy again, pretty thing?” You nod hastily with a chewed lip, fuck you looked so cute being desperate for him. He removes his finger with a deep sigh. “Mmm, ‘kay, stay still fr’ me, baby.”
You find that impossible as he descends back to your leaking slit to lick and suck like crazy, his hands on your hips to keep your writhing figure from escaping the older man sucking on your nectar. Christ, you tasted so good, his jaw wet from pushing his face further in to have more of you in his mouth as possible, chasing you to ride out another orgasm for him to drink on. 
He’d make you cum for the second time that night. Something you know is essential as you’re soon bent on your back, your legs to the air supported by his shoulders, and constant wails fly out your slippery lips and bounce the walls of your bedroom. You can only thank the Lord that the kids are not home right now…
“Hmaahh! Nhhaahh!! Daddyyyy, Daddyy….! Too much, I’m ‘oo full—Oooo!”
“Hghh! Hhhshiiiit, this pussy…! Try’na milk me dry, huh, sweet thing…”
Clothes have long been discarded to the bedroom floor, and the ceiling lights turned off for the natural lighting of the moon to shower the space, Toji’s nude, powerful body on top of yours as he pistons his cock into you at an irregular pace. Sweat keeps the strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and hoarse grunts evade him with every dig of his dick venturing inside you. 
The position helps him go deep into the places both you and he can’t reach, his fat girth stretching your entrance and the tip stimulating your G-spot with grazes to your vaginal walls. His jabs become more accurate when he adds his weight onto you, caging you between him and the mattress to have your chasm tighten around him more. You howl, clenching on his length at every scratch of your sensitive areas. And it doesn’t help the fact he drives himself down to the hilt, balls deep into your creamy cunt.
“Tahhh, ohhhh, good God,” your eyes shut, taking out the sense of seeing to indulge in the others. The many sensations coursing through your fatigued frame are borderline addicting — given the fact that this is the fourth time Toji’s making you come. You’re practically drowning in the scene; any more than this, you’re bound to turn into actual putty.
Toji taps your cheek to have you open your eyelids for him. “Hey, mama,” your heart skipped at his handsome, disheveled look. Emerald eyes capture your gaze, and the smirk on his face lifts the scar. “Watch how good y’re takin’ me.”
Your stare travels down to where your sex is joined with his, white fluids exiting out of you and making a ring around the base of his shaft. You can sense the come from the round prior trailing down to the crevice of your ass; so fucking dirty. It all looked so erotic and forbidden to the eyes, throbbing on him a lot more.
“Daddy, please—Mmmph!”
“What, sweetie,” his hips change to an intermittent rhythm, evoking more cries to escape your pretty lips. He examines every feature in your expression, admiring how sexy you look under his bow. “Tell Daddy what you want.”
It hurts to think, but you try to muster a response despite your head going through such a haze. “Let me c’mmm on you, pleaseee!”
“Good girl,” he stops moving his pelvis to maneuver, standing on his knees, removing your legs from his shoulder to lie them down. Toji then comes from behind you, scooping you to his side for your body to mush with his in for a cuddle. You gasp at him inserting his cock back in, humming at the stretch of his girth that fills you up and scrapes your upper wall.
Toji returns his pelvis in thrusting motions, and your head rests on his forearm. The push of his dick grinding against your velvety texture has you squeaking in high pitches, a hand finding purchase on his rocking hip. 
“Fuck,” he observes you, looking so effortlessly gorgeous by his side — he missed this so fucking bad, having you near him like it’s where you belonged. The hand you’re resting on comes around to cup your breast, fondling the mound lovingly, which makes you arch to him more. His free hand brings your chin to him, “So fuckin’ beautiful fr’ me, baby…”
The kiss makes you clamp onto him tighter, and Toji reacts by dialing the speed. He trails his lips to your cheek and the crook of your neck to lay more kisses and suck on your skin. The hand on your breast squeezes it, occasionally pressing down on your nipple with his forefinger. Yet it doesn’t distract you from the constant stimulation of your G-spot, screaming and toes curling from the diligent strokes against the wall of your vagina.
Your brain turns into mush, spit coming down your agape lips, and your brows furrow while Toji squishes your cheeks. “Ohhh, Daddy, right thereeee, I’m so close…!”
“Me too, sweetie, a lil’ bit more…—Aiishh!” He can feel it, his length pulsating inside you when your orgasms climb together. He brings your mouth back to his, taking your delicious screams when your bodies lock in together to climax. 
A few more harsh thrusts to your ass, and Toji spurts his load into you, sinking into the pleasurable sensation of your folds contracting around his girth. Your hand scratches his hip, muffled howls taken by him while the hand on your breast sneaks away to grasp your hand, fingers intertwining to seek connectedness. 
Quivering bodies soon calm down when the wave of their finish is finally gone, and you two sigh deep into a passionate kiss. It breaks with a soft noise while he nibbles on your lip before letting go. “Toji,” you said his name in stifles, your hand caressing his sweaty cheek.
The older man huffs, placing his hot palm on your cheek to stroke in return. “Yeah, mama?”
“Sleep,” you demanded with a sigh, fatigued eyes and trenched brows. The single word has you both chuckling in the hot air between you before he kisses you gently one last time. Exhaustion takes over you both, Toji bringing the comforter to put around your bodies, laying his head on the pillows as you rest yours on his arm, your hand still held with his.
His free hand guides you to be pressed up against him, his cock still inside your creamy cunt. He’s comforted by the snug of your walls and the flesh of your body molding with his hot, sturdy frame. Sleepy green eyes go to the creek of the curtains covering the bedroom window. “Maybe we outta argue more often.”
He knew that would make you giggle; the faint rise and fall of your shoulder is highlighted by the moonlight creeping through the window. “Good night, Toji.” The way you said his name sounded like a spell, closing his eyes at the somnolent tone.
“Night, baby.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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kiwi-bitchez · 9 months ago
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The Girlfriend Experience
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
6K notes · View notes
bunnyrafe · 5 months ago
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gassppp bf rafe dragging reader out of a party theyre at after threatening to fight a girl- who she saw practically eye-fucking him :0
does that make any sense 😭
the way i did a little dance while reading this because ABSOLUTELY… reader who does not play about her rafey.
content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 500 f / kook!reader, partying, mentions of drinking & drug use, rafe has met his match, daddy kink, suggestive.
you’re not one to fly off the handle. in fact the first thing people often say about you is how sweet you are. the sweetest girl who loves to party, loves expensive things and being taken care of. that’s how you won over rafe’s heart. perfect for him in every way, even when your nasty temper does happen to make an appearance.
at first, you don’t think much of it when you catch her eyes rake up and down rafe’s form. your vision is bleary due to everything in your system. a few drinks, one or two puffs of rafe’s joint— the usual. maybe you’re seeing things. actually you must be seeing things; there’s no way she’s this fuckin' dumb to salivate over him right in front of you, as you cling to his side and press your glossed lips to his neck.
unbeknownst to you rafe follows your gaze, rolling his eyes when they land on the girl in question. he ducks his head so he can grumble in your ear, squeezing your hip through the material of your pretty party dress in the process— “ignore her, baby.”
“do you know her?” you’re quick to ask.
rafe’s face twists up, “fuck no.”
“good.”
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everything’s peachy as it should be until rafe gets up from your side— once he’s up, he leans back down and plants a sweet kiss to your lips. one that makes you grab at him for more, expecting him to pull you away with him to a more private room. instead he whispers against your lips, mimicking your pout— “i gotta go get something, bunny.”
you nod obediently, but don’t let go of his hand until you absolutely have to. “be good,” he mouths to you.
and honestly, that was your plan. to be good. to wait for him like you were meant to. you don’t remember getting up from your spot on the sofa, you don’t remember stomping over to her in your brand new heels. but you do recall seeing her make a move, eyes glued to your boyfriend as he weaves through the crowded house, ready to follow after him.
there are a few voices surrounding you, calling for rafe “cameron, come get your girl.” that was mere moments before you felt his arms wrap around you, tugging you away while you continued to shout and nearly full on bark like some over territorial puppy— “i’ll kill you, bitch.”
of course you didn’t mean it… well. a tiny part of you did.
you keep your arms folded against your chest. rafe’s jacket hangs off of your shoulders as you sit in the passenger seat of his truck. frowning so hard that your cheeks hurt. any kind of buzz or high you’ve had has completely worn off, but sparks go off when your boyfriend grabs at your thigh with a big warm hand, reassuringly rubbing his palm over your skin. he clears his throat, huffing a laugh through his nose… “i mean— all things considered, that was pretty hot.”
“shut up.” you grit through your teeth, drowning in embarrassment.
“nah,” rafe grins, “i’m serious, baby. you’re just— just a little protective over your daddy, nothin’ wrong with that.”
you hang off of every word, happy to still have his approval after your stunt. yeah. he’s right. there truly is nothing wrong with that… and you intend to show him just how much you’re obsessed with him when you two get back to his place.
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ba9go · 5 months ago
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(nsfw) friends w/ benefits!bakugou katsuki headcanons
mdni: explicit & implied sexual content. nsfw under the cut
bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, friends with benefits, sexual tension, blowjobs in the classroom. definitely not inspired by my ex fwb-turned-bf haha (it is 1000%)
it was written exams season, and you were stressed. you distanced yourself from your classmates, and started ignoring mina's text messages inviting you to momo's room for your usual group study sessions. you felt a little bad, but you've always been more productive when studying alone.
katsuki was stressed too. he sat behind you in class, and over the course of the past week, it was as if his pen-clicking tendencies grew proportionally to his stress. click, click, click, click, click. it didn't bug you, though. if anything, you were worried.
katsuki was usually quiet in lessons, but he'd been sighing more. you don't blame him. there was so much content to be memorised. so many chapter sections and parts.
class had ended, and your classmates were already streaming out of the room, but you were still packing your things up. apparently, katsuki was still packing up too.
"fuckin' hell," katsuki groaned under his breath. you heard aggressive page-flipping behind you. you looked behind out of concern.
katsuki's sharp gaze flickers up from the thick stack of notes on his table. when he meets your gaze, you note that his glare lacks its usual ferocity. he looks tired.
"what?" he snaps at you. a second passes, and you see his glare falter. his brows furrow slightly.
"you good?" you ask anyway.
"me? are you good?" you blink, and then realise that you probably look like a zombie after the all-nighter you pulled.
you try to say that you're fine, but katsuki raises a brow at you, so you shake your head. yeah no, you are absolutely not good right now.
"not really. m'really stressed," you sighed.
"you gettin' any sleep?"
you shake your head.
"you should sleep."
"i know."
"you need rest."
"i know."
you sigh, and you turn away from katsuki to pick up your bag. you should probably head back to your room and continue studying—
"m'stressed too," katsuki admits quietly. he doesn't meet your gaze when you turn to look at him again.
"oh," you hum absentmindedly. you're not sure what you should be saying to him. it was bakugou katsuki, after all. he didn't want or need your pity. what would katsuki want? what could you offer katsuki?
you must be really sleep-deprived and definitely not in your right mind, because you undo the first few buttons of your shirt and start to retie your ponytail.
"want some help?" you ask, sounding a little more hopeful than you'd intended. you hope katsuki got the hint.
katsuki stares at you through narrowed eyes. he's quiet, so it feels like your proposition is just hanging heavy in the air between the both of you. you're mentally screaming at yourself, wondering what the fuck you're doing, but it's too late for you to back out, so you just meet katsuki's steady gaze and pray he doesn't notice the blush dusting your cheeks (he definitely does)
"yeah," katsuki finally says. he drops his notes and one of his hands disappears under the table. you can't help the way your eyes follow the movement, and you watch shamelessly as katsuki unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.
katsuki looks at you through empty, tired eyes. he knows he's not in his right mind either. he would've never asked for such a thing from you, he respects you too much for that. you're his classmate. his friend, and one of his most trusted ones at that.
but katsuki isn't blind. he has eyes. he knows you're stupidly hot. he'd never admit it, but he's spent a few nights jerking off to the thought of your plush, wet lips around him.
katsuki isn't in his right mind, but even if he were, he's not sure he'd ever be able to turn down such a proposition from you.
katsuki pulls his boxers down, and his cock springs out. it's thick and pink and veiny and you rub your thighs together restlessly.
katsuki shifts his chair back and nods towards the now-empty space between his legs. "c'mere."
you end up on your knees, under katsuki's table, with a mouthful of cock.
"holy fuck," katsuki hisses through gritted teeth when you open your pretty lips and your hot breath hits the head of his cock. there's a bead of precum along his slit, and katsuki lets out a quiet whine when your tongue darts out to lick along it.
katsuki's embarrassed, immediately bringing a hand over his mouth. he moans into his palm when you press a wet kiss on the underside of his cock, right below his head. he wonders where you learnt how to do this, who taught you how to suck cock this, who else had you between their legs like this, when it could've been, should've been him. katsuki swallows his anger and jealousy.
"katsuki," you whisper, and katsuki swears he almost came right there and then. he hums in response. "wanna hear you. wanna know i'm doin' a good job."
and who was katsuki to deny you?
"oh, fuck," katsuki moans, low and guttural, when you finally wrap your lips around him and sink your mouth down on his cock. you're so good for him, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself not to nut right down your throat.
katsuki opens his eyes when the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. you're deepthroating him, and he thinks he's going insane.
you're looking up at him with your mouth stuffed with his cock, yet you somehow manage to look so cute and almost innocent, batting your lashes prettily at katsuki.
your eyes are teary and you moan something around his cock. you look so pathetic, but you look like you're absolutely loving it. katsuki loves it too.
"so good f'me, baby," katsuki grabs the end of your ponytail and wraps it around his hand and pulls. "wanna ruin you. mess up that pretty mouth. show me how good you are at sucking cock, yeah?"
katsuki almost regrets egging you on, because you start bobbing your head up and down and it feels so fucking good. katsuki throws his head back and moans brokenly, and he's so fucking glad the last person to leave the classroom was smart enough to close the fucking door. you both sounded filthy, with your wet sloppy slurping and his loud ass moans.
"shit, fuck," katsuki feels his dick throb at the sensation of your tongue against his cock. "slow down, fuck, m'so fuckin' close, fuck—"
you ignore him. your jaw hurts like fuck right now and your legs are so sore, but you love this. love sucking katsuki's cock, love making him feel good.
so you bob your head up, down, up, down, until katsuki spills into your throat with a cry.
"cumming, fuck," katsuki squeezes his eyes shut. his hips stutter as he rides out his orgasm, fucking into your throat and forcing his cum down your throat.
you keep katsuki in your mouth until his dick starts to grow soft and he whines at the overstimulation.
"feel better?" you asked, voice fucked raw.
"yeah," katsuki reaches down to pat your head affectionately. "thanks."
taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh
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stvrnioloslvt · 1 month ago
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quiet - Chris Sturniolo
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fratboy!chris × jealous!reader
(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)
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disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!
t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.
a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!
when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.
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“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”
“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”
i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire. 
as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.
“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”
“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.
i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?” 
“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”
“he’s already drunk?”
“yeah, you surprised?”
i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck. 
“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.
“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?
then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.
i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides. 
nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that. 
just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.
“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”
“absolutely not.”
“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.
“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."
i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.
an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.
"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"
"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."
we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.
"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."
matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.
"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."
i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.
"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."
i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.
and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.
i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.
just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.
"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.
i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"
"quiet."
"chris i swear-"
"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.
he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.
i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.
chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.
"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.
"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.
"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."
"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."
he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.
"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."
chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.
"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.
i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"
"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."
he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.
"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.
a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.
"oh chris- fuck."
"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."
i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.
"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.
"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?
he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.
the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.
"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.
"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."
one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.
his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.
"no."
"please-"
"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."
i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.
a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.
with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.
i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.
"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"
his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.
"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.
"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."
i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"
"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"
「 ★ ★ ★ 」
yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.
hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!
love y'all,
-bree🎃🦇
MASTERLIST
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trashbaget · 2 years ago
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*
#feeling UNFUCKINGWELL#UGH!!!!! yall—#the shit is just getting to me today#the horrors are winning right now and i’m really unhappy about it#i finally catch a goddamn break and live in 2 weeks of hopeful contentment and then#then bullshit#like honestly what the actual fuck#this has easily been the longest two days of my entire life#i went from#did i miss a goddamn meme or something?? bc those words just suggested sooooo many wackass tags i did not write lafheldks#gave me a much needed giggle#but still the horrors. they’re whelming.#here let me give yall the fuckin Details right#so i’m at work on saturday and i’m having a good time despite the fact i’m dead tired and exhausted and have to go grocery shopping when all#i want is to be at home. i go home feeling good because i’ve had a job for 2 weeks now after being turned down left and right and front and#back and sideways for eight fucking months. i’d just talked with a work friend (that’s right! i’d already made friends! i was feeling good!)#about getting more uniform shirts bc obviously i’m riding on this being a longterm thing. i text my boss the next morning asking if i could#get some more. hours later i find email notifications alerting me that she has wiped my hours from the schedule. i think it is odd and give#it a little time for her to add me new shifts bc she’d left one in. hours more pass and no response so i text her about it. i’d JUST had a#conversation with her a few days before about needed so many hours and not just 2 shifts so i was already like wtf?? and then. she has the#audacity to wait until 9pm to respond and this is what she says:#I am really sorry that I have to do this over text and I’m just sorry in general for the inconvenience after this weekend the owner has#out and told me that we might just not be the right fit for a job I’m really sorry I hate do this. I wish you nothing but the best and I#will let you know when your tips are ready and when your next paycheck will be in. —like????? wtf??? is this a shitty high school breakup??#first of all. this was just insurmountably unprofessional and inconsiderate. she gave me NO reasons and didn’t even really Say hey you’re#being let go and left it up to me to follow the clues like i’m in the fucking scooby doo gang??? and girlypop who the fuck do you think ur#playing with ‘your next paycheck’ shit?? THIS IS MY FIRST FUCKING ONE!! and no one ever explained to me when i was supposed to get it!! and#i got nothing but further confusing answers whenever i asked. so um. fuck this fucking place. good god. it’s just really really gross#i told her i want to have a talk with them about their excuses for firing me bc this is bullshit. still haven’t fucking heard about that.#except for a ‘yeah sure we can do that.’ like bitch. tell me when. give me something. ANYTHING. i am fucking cracking—
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killakalx · 7 months ago
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17+ content, blank blogs dnf
my attempt of forcing myself out of this block. poorly proofread, dick’s drabble is short compared to jason’s
dick grayson isn’t the jealous type, but he loves when you try to coax it out of him. the fact that you’re trying to get a reaction from him is almost touching, really. after spending the whole week wearing the skimpiest of clothes for all your outings, feeding into every ounce of attention you get and still seeking more, you assume him fucking you is his get back.
“aw,” he’d coo, hand gripping your face as he speaks to you. “‘s that what you were showing out for? just wanted me to fuck you rough?” deep thrusts punctuate his question and you nod— as best as you can with his fingertips digging into your cheeks, at least.
“I know you wanna,” you manage in an attempt to encourage him, rolling your hips and clenching around his shaft to elicit that sweet sound you only get from him a few times with each fuck. “c’mon, dickie- fuck me like you’re mad at me.”
“good try,” dick teases through teeth and tongue as he groans into your mouth, letting go of your jaw to pin your wrists into the bed. there’s a momentum that he picks up, but nothing even close to what you’d tried to provoke. “tell me when you let someone else touch this pretty pussy the way I do,” dick suggests in a hushed moan against your ear, “maybe then i’ll fuck you how you want me to.”
jason todd, however, falls for it every time. any little attention grab, any whorish call you make to draw men in— he sees it and it makes his eye twitch as soon as he picks up on it.
he’s not stupid. he knows every party trick you’ve got, and yet he still ends up balls deep inside you against any surface, stretching you out on his fat cock the way you intend him to. jason fucks you like he’s livid, because he is, and it leaves you choking on your words.
“y’think you’re so cute,” he chastises, shoving your face into the mattress until your whines are muffled in the sheets. your legs jolt with each hard pound he gives you, slow and calculated to hit that sweet spot only his cock could ever reach. “did you even see the way they were lookin’ at you?” his voice scratches at the side of your neck, low and accusatory as he slams his cock inside of you before you can mutter some sorry explanation.
jason folds your leg higher up and you keen, nails clawing at sheets as you gather hold of yourself. “you sound-“ a particularly hard thrust makes you gasp, “sound jealous, jay.” and like that, you’ve cut the red wire.
“really,” he grunts with a ticked off tone, “you think so?” his words neither confirm nor deny, but the way jason flips you with little to no time wasted speaks volumes. the way he easily repositions you, face down and damn near suffocating you in the sheets with your ass in the air; that’s what tells you your plan worked. and in little to time, jason has you absolutely broken. sheets soaked, pillows damp with tears and drool as you cry to him.
you whimper into the soft cotton, gripping onto the sheets hard enough to pull them off of their corners. he’s got you sounding pathetic, legs trembling and jolting every time he bruises your cervix, leaking around the base of his cock, and at this point your body’s fallen limp. pretty little pleas for jason and only jason, and he’d be more willing to admit how hot you look if he wasn’t pissed off. “begging for me,” jason huffs with an agitated quirk of his lip, “and all i’m giving you is what you fuckin’ wanted.” ❧
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stoopidpigeonxx · 17 days ago
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⋆˚。⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒎𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆。˚⋆ (PT. 2)
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OKOKOK I MADE THE PART TWO PLS STOP YELLING AT MEEEE
NSFW under the cut. MDNI.
Characters/fandoms: Captain Curly, Mouthwashing Content warnings: Smut, obvi, p in v whatt, curly being a SLOPPYYYYY eater, praise (from you and him), boobs, tits even, curly being 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, alot of dirty talking, etc. Our boy curlys a bit of perv.
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-Manners? What manners?
Curly is a, what do you kids call it... a munch? Yes. If he goes down on you, and he most likely will, he will be SLOPPY with it. I'm talking drooling all over your cunt, licking it from top to bottom, shaking his head side to side and pressing wet kisses to your clit. It's ironic, really, since he's so polite in and out of bed, but he doesn't really care about a mess if it means pleasuring you. What's a little mess? Sheets can be washed.
"Sorry *kiss* about the mess, sweetheart.. *kiss* can't *kiss* help myself."
-Beautiful tits. And rack. Love it.
When asked the question 'ass, tits or thighs,' he's gonna pick tits. He's a titty guy. Sure, your ass and thighs are nice too, and he gives them an equal amount of love, but nothing can beat the feeling of shoving his face into your boobs when he's thrusting in and out of you. It has something to do with hearing your heartbeat and how fast it is, but mostly he just likes suffocating between your twins. And if he's particularly stressed, he'll just set you on his desk and lift your shirt up and go to town. Sucking, squeezing, rubbing, all that. His favorite stress balls. And god forbid the day you get nipple piercings... He's mindlessly playing with the metal with his teeth, enjoying the feeling of the cold brass on his tongue. You'll have to wear bandaids. (which he'll apply, apologizing profusely.)
-Praise me for sin.
Call this man a good boy and he's whining and shaking. It goes both ways with him. He loves getting praised, and he loves praising. A few of his favorites.. "You're doing such a good job." "Look at you, taking everything like a champ." "God, you're gorgeous." "Good girl." "You're so pretty, baby.." "Atta-fuckin-girl." He knows you fold every time for that kind of talk, so he makes sure to say at least one while you're getting naughty. On the other hand, some of his favorites to hear.. "That's a good boy." "Thank you." (Manners.) "I love you so much." "You're too good." "Fuck, that's good." Hearing how good of a job he's doing is only fuel for him to keep going, and gets him hard as a rock. So, use that mouth. (Unless its occupied, wink wink.)
-He babbles when he comes.
When he's right on that edge, he goes a bit dumb. You feel so warm and good, and he's so fucking close, and his brain just loses all ability to form coherent thoughts. So he just mumbles whatever comes out of his mouth in that adorable whiny subby voice. (You know the one.) "Fuuuuck too good too good too good.. baby.. g'na make me come, coming, coming." Or just a chorus of 'yes' over and over. Its really cute because he tries to be quiet with it, but his brain is so broken that he can't control his volume too well. He has to shove his face into your shoulder or a pillow to muffle himself so the crew doesn't overhear.
-Can't stop, won't stop.
Will not give up until you come, no matter how sore his cock is or how cramped his legs are. He wants you to come as many times as possible before the night is over, and he's willing to overwork himself to achieve that. You've told him its okay, but he doesn't really care. Feeling you clench around him and ride out your orgasm is the best thing he's ever felt, so he's gonna have you coming at least 3 times each session. Unless, of course, you're begging him to stop since its too much. He'd never want to hurt you. He'd pull out and lay with you for a while and let your body calm down before starting up again. "Take it easy, angel. I'm right here. It's okay, you're doing so well." (Why does his dirty talk sound like him coaching you through birth?? 😭)
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peachsukii · 9 months ago
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₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)
『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 。‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧。 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
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It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.
Boy, did that come in handy.
You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.
One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.
The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.
You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!
Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.
You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!
What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.
When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.
Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.
Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.
“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”
He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.
“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”
He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.
“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.
Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.
“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.
“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.
Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.
You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.
“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.
He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.
“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.
You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.
Oh fuck-
Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.
“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”
You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.
His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.
“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.
You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.
“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”
Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”
The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.
Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.
Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.
“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”
“Like you’re complaining.”
His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.
“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.
“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”
Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.
Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.
"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."
Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.
“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"
You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."
The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."
Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.
You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.
“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”
Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.
“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.
“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”
Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.
He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."
His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.
With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"
You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.
"Good fuckin' girl, baby."
He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.
Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.
"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."
You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"
He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.
Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.
"Wha-"
You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.
"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."
Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.
"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"
Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.
"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.
"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"
Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.
"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."
His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.
"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."
"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."
Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.
"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."
You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.
"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"
The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.
"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.
"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."
He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.
tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥
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reaping-the-benefits · 2 months ago
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Part 1
Part 2 to my omegaverse au
MDNI!!!! Content warning: omegaverse, alpha Simon, omega reader, mentions of knotting and cock-warming, p in v, reader has a vagina, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), return of the shitty ex (sorry if your name is Devin)
Your heat ends three days sooner than you had expected. Maybe it’s because you finally have an alpha to help take care of it. Maybe you’re pregnant. Who knows? These are thoughts for later. Right now, you’re just ecstatic to have an alpha, especially one as wonderful as Simon.
Speaking of the devil…
Simon groans softly, rocking his hips into yours. “What’s got you squeezin’ like that?” he mumbles into your ear, still a little groggy from sleep.
You must’ve fallen asleep last night with his knot still inside you, cockwarming him all night. The thought must make you clench around him again, because Simon’s groaning into your ear, rolling you onto your stomach. 
“Hips up, love,” he commands. He doesn’t wait for you to follow the demand, already lifting your hips and shoving a pillow underneath them. 
The pillow really doesn’t help much when Simon presses his body against yours, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. His thrusts are slow, almost lazy, as if he’s got all the time in the world. Between his weight on top of you, and his cock rearranging your insides, it’s almost impossible to get out anything besides a whiney moan, struggling to get any air into your lungs. It makes your head spin, and Simon groans in your ear, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to trail kisses along your bare skin.
“Needy fuckin’ thing, ain’t ya?” he groans into your ear, his hips gradually picking up the pace. “Kept you full all night, and it still wasn’t enough.”
You whine in response, trying to push your hips back against his. You dig your hands into the sheets, hoping to find some leverage to help you, but Simon tuts softly, leaning back onto his knees. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand, twisting your arms back. The new position makes you arch your back, face pressed into the sheets. It also gives Simon a better angle to drive himself into you, each thrust hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
“S-simon,” you stutter out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The pleasure is so good, the kind that has your toes curling, and that all too familiar feeling builds up in your abdomen. 
Simon’s free hand snakes around your waist, the touch almost scorching as it trails down your stomach and between your thighs. You must still be sensitive from the previous night, because he just barely swipes his fingers over your clit and you’re cumming, pussy clamping down on his cock. Your whole body shakes, vision blank for a moment as you cry into the sheets.
Simon doesn’t slow down, hips rocking into yours, fucking you through your orgasm and into his own. His thrusting gets sloppy, until he lets go of your hands to drape himself over your back, his face buried into the crook of your neck once more, letting out a rough groan as his hips finally still, shooting his load into you.
It takes both of you a second to come down from that wonderful little high, chests heaving. Simon peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders, nipping teasingly across your bare shoulders. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he murmurs into your skin. 
You can’t help the whine that you let you, when he slips out of you. There’s an ache in your hips, one that’s been building up over the last few days. Simon just huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss between your shoulders before he leaves the bed.
He comes back a few minutes later with a towel, murmuring soft apologies as he carefully cleans you up. One hand gently rubs over your hips, and you scrunch your face up for a moment, muttering out, “You’re too fucking big, Si.”
“Don’t remember you complain’ yesterday,” he huffs out in response, but there’s amusement in his voice, and it makes you smile in response. “Think you can get up?”
You flop onto your back, eyes narrowing as you think about it for a moment. Technically, yes, you probably could. But walking is a whole different task, and with the ache in your hips and the jelly feeling in your legs, you highly doubt you’d make it out of the bedroom.
“Mmm… no. Carry me?”
Simon rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed with the request. But there’s no hiding the smug feeling in his chest, the smirk on his lips, when he scoops you out of the bed, carrying you bridal style out of the bedroom.
***
You’re in a good mood, as you step out of the apartment, wearing shorts and one of Simon’s shirts. It hangs loose on you, one shoulder visible as the neckline keeps trying to slip off. You have no idea how these shirts always look so tight on Simon, but are so loose on you. 
You had been planning on going to the mailroom. A plan short lived, because your ex is stepping out of his apartment at the same time. You hadn’t really thought about Devin over the last week, far too occupied with your heat and Simon. And Simon’s hands, and tongue, and… well, you get the idea.
Devin stares at you, his eyes narrow for a moment. You can practically feel his gaze, as you turn, still planning on heading to the mailroom. Subconsciously, you pick up the pace, trying to get away from him as quickly as possible.
But Devin’s taller, and he easily catches up to you.
“What? No hello?” he asks, grabbing onto your arm to stop you.
You yank your arm away from him, hissing as if his touch physically pains you. There’s nothing you have to say to him, nothing meaningful at least. Really, if it were up to you, you’d never speak to your ex again. He’d been demeaning your entire relationship, and you had been ready to leave far earlier than now.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you reply curtly.
Devin steps closer to you, a dark look flashing on his face. “Is that any way to speak to your alpha?” he growls at you.
“You’re not my alpha,” you spit back.
Devin snarls, reaching out for you, but he hesitates, his eyes drawn to your neck. To your bond mark. Something akin to anger flashes across his face, and he hisses at you, “Are you fucking kidding me? I knew you were fucking cheating on me, you little-”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish. Not when Simon scruffs him like a kitten, yanking him back by the back of his shirt. While your ex had been tall, Simon is practically a giant, towering over Devin with a dark look on his face. Simon leans down to snarl something into Devin’s ear, too quiet for you to hear. But based on the fear on Devin’s face, it’s probably a threat. 
Simon shoves him away, sends him stumbling off down the hallway, back to his own apartment, before turning his attention to you. You’d just watch him get aggressive, but he’s so gentle with you, hands reaching out to cradle your face.
“You okay, lovie?” Simon asks, voice soft and gentle. 
You nuzzle your face into his hands, smiling sweetly. Maybe you should be a little scared, with how easy it was for Simon to manhandle another person around. But you’re not scared of Simon, not when he looks at you with such a softness in his eyes.
“I’m okay.”
He nods, hands dropping away from your face, only for him to wrap an arm around you, tugging you closer to him. “Where we going?”
“To check the mail,” you reply, letting him tuck you into his side, feeling safe and sound.
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