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tonycries · 3 months ago

Text

Video Game Lover - G.S.

Synopsis. Suguru Geto, the resident nerd who “helps” you with your homework. Tall, gloomy, mean, and- and an alpha? And he’s in rut?!

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! nerd! Geto, ruts, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pánty-sniffer Geto, he goes FÉRAL, MEAN Geto, headIocks, slightly bímbo! reader, dúmbifícation, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, MANHANDLlNG, Geto with glasses + tattoos, overstím, knots, first times (Geto), pússydrunk Geto, MATÍNG BÍTES, oraI (f + m), p talking, spítting, praise, he’s POSSESSIVE, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“Please, Sugu—?”

“No.”

“I’ll let you keep my panties?”

And that makes Geto shudder, breath hitching into something dangerously husky as he pushes his thick glasses further up his nose bridge. Greedy gaze darting anywhere but where you were oh-so-vulgarly leaning towards him. “Tch- as if I’d ever…”

With a grin, you shift to show him a flash of cherry pink peeking out from underneath that sinfully short skirt of yours.

Purposefully.

He was gone.

“F-fine.” He’s gulping, and it wouldn’t be the first time that you’d goaded the ill-tempered campus genius, Geto Suguru, into doing your- ah, “helping” you with your homework. “But-”

Before Geto can ramble away the usual lecture about something called “academic integrity”, you’re jumping up and tackling his towering frame into a hug. Pressing the curves of your tits into his Digimon t-shirt - just as a little treat - and flouncing excitedly back to your friends.

But what you didn’t notice is the way that makes Geto stiffen.

His tummy lurching, nose raising into the air-

Oh.

You smelled so sweet.

Geto’s spit-slicked lips part open to steal a sharp gasp of the sweltering lecture hall air- it couldn’t be. And his bleary irises can’t even focus, can’t lock on anything but the figure of you mere feet away.

…Could it?

With a slight tilt of your head, you’re staring back at him - and something…carnal pangs through his suddenly-boiling veins.

Then you smirk- and Geto twitches.

Fuck.

He would’ve crashed onto his knees right then and there if it wasn’t for the way that you proceed to dig through your cute, useless bag - still in the middle of a conversation with your friends - and throw something flimsy and pale pink at him.

No shame. No regrets.

None for either of you; but especially not Geto once his strong palms reach out to urgently scramble for the shred of gauzy fabric in midair.

Tangling the stringy satin between thick, ringed fingerpads, he’s sinking his face into its sugarcoated scent before sinking into the realization that you’d had the audacity to throw your fucking panties at him in the middle of a bustling seminar.

Yet, he was even worse - jaw slackening, broad chest heaving with rasping ahs! as he drinks in loooong repeated puffs of your pheromones. Coating his brain in melty molasses of sugar and spice and you.

There was a reason you were the most sought-after omega on the entire campus. With your filthy skin-tight outfits, and your flirty smiles.

And him? He couldn’t get enough.

Smearing away a sloppy splotch of saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth- when had he even started drooling? Geto watches through watery peripherals as you mouth a smug “an advance” at him, and saunter out of the class in your tightly-knit group.

Too tightly-knit, if you asked Geto. Dead-on stare narrowing, he catches the way one of your so-called friends brush away an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder.

Just barely. His head snapping towards Geto when the latter growls-

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

He was fucked.

Listen, it’s not as if you make Geto finish all of your homework - just the ones that you found too tedious, too complicated, or too time-consuming. Which might just happen to be all of them, but you digress!

He was more than happy to collect those slutty scraps of silk you called “panties” and you were proud to keep your streak of having the second-highest GPA in class (after the man himself, of course.)

The more important the grade the more sinful the panties.

After all, it wasn’t as if you minded all of Geto’s fiery stares at you during lectures, the spark in his eyes when he tried to drill a difficult concept into your mind, or the way his dark lashes would flutter drunkenly the moment you got too close.

In fact, you might even admit that you…like it.

Because Geto was hot. Fuck- he was fucking pretty.

You’d seen just how fawny his amethyst eyes were behind those clunky glasses. Lengthy Stygian hair, so many inches above six feet, and biceps that pull his gamer t-shirts so taut that it made you wonder what was underneath.

But it wasn’t as if a nerd - and a beta, obviously, though you didn’t care for secondary gender - like him would ever make a move.

Hell, he barely even talked to anyone other than the professors.

All grumbling and rude. It took you weeks to even get him to acknowledge your existence, and that was only by giving him an “accidental” glimpse of your red, red bra strap.

So you were mostly fine and dandy with this lecherous transaction of yours. Geto was smart; he was never a minute late in emailing you your surely A+ worthy work before their deadlines, and you’d gift him his little treat just the day after.

Except- you were lounging on your couch as the 12:00AM deadline for your latest essay rolled around and there was still no sign of Geto. Not a single ping from your inbox.

With an impatient thumb, you’re idly scrolling through the sparse chat history you’d all but bullied him into sharing with you, brows furrowing deeper and deeper at your plethora of ignored texts and calls.

Nothing new but, seriously…

Scoffing as the clock tick! tick! ticked! its way to 12:01AM.

He was late - and your homework was, too.

You’d been feeling a little too…feverish tonight to attend that one party your friends had invited you to, and thank your stars for that. Because not even minutes later, you were stomping the few blocks down to Geto’s apartment building and all the way up to his white-painted front door.

“Hey, Sugu—” You rap your knuckles harshly on the wood, exasperated. “Are you in there?”

No answer.

Huffing, your heated skin stings where it clashes even harder against his door. Impatiently, “Hah- making an omega walk all the way out here…I should take back all those panties I gave you. Yaga deducts points for late submissions and I am not leaving until you come out.”

Still no answer. Not even a sound.

“In fact, I’ll only get louder.”

Not even a breath.

That was…strange. He should’ve at least come out to shut up your racket so that he can study, if not at the mention of your panties.

And right now your annoyance was being washed away with sharp waves of concern, a nervous bout of laughter escaping you as soon as your hand falls on the door handle to find it shockingly unlocked. Oh?

You and Geto might not be the best of friends, but you wanted him to be alright goddammit.

“Better come out and stop me now, unless you want me to barge in!” You call out, jostling the cold, metallic knob for good measure. It holds firm in your hand, the only thing grounding your swimming mind as you bask in a second of silence. Two. Three. Before sighing, “Have it your way then. I’m coming in–”

Then it hits you.

Slow, at first. Like a smell from a distant memory that you find yourself aching for - find yourself stumbling a few steps inside Geto’s cozy apartment and devouring in generous lungfuls.

You slam the door shut to cloud yourself in the saturated air and gasp.

This was nothing like any expensive perfume you’d smelled before. It felt like your entire body was on fire, like every one of your pores was scorching from deep inside. Like you needed him.

Head whirling with the heady concoction of caramel salt scent and those dark undertones of wine. Something so dangerous. So tempting. So…Suguru.

You jolt. He was in rut.

Wait, rut? Geto Suguru? Wasn’t he…wasn’t he a beta?

You swear he was. You didn’t know what was happening, only angling your head up for more and more and more-

Shit, you’re shoving your thighs together before you know it. Already feeling the slippery stream of slick that sloshes past your pussy lips and puddles at the bottom of your underwear. And you know you’ve never been wetter.

“A-anyone home?” You’re straining out, the doughy mountain of your palm rubbing mindlessly up n’ down through your thin skirt.

Undoubtedly, there’s still no response. And yet, it’s almost as if he’s calling to you - and maybe he is.

Feet wrenching one jerky pitch after the other, you have to balance yourself on the hallway walls to fucking keep your sanity.

And to perhaps stop your weakened knees from slipping you into a pile on the polished hardwood floors. Perhaps to stop yourself from breaking out into a run to wherever your inner luna was clawing to take you.

You breathe, “Th-this isn’t funny, Suguru…”

The soft thuds of your padded steps thunder in time with your racing heart. Louder and louder. Deafening by the time you’re catching sight of a large mahogany door at the end of the corridor that waves ever-so-slightly ajar.

Where those hypnotic pheromones were the most saturated. And your mouth waters.

It’s only once you’re reaching it - trembling, standing stock-still, right outside what you now assumed to be his bedroom - that you realize Geto was calling to you. Well, more like he was calling out for you.

Your name.

In soft, breathy moans that make his rich baritone crack.

“Get the fuck in here.”

The moment Geto Suguru catches a glimpse of your oh-so-cute face - the moment he senses that you’re actually, honest-to-goodness here - he cums.

And he can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help it.

Even dabbing the fat of his massive thumb right over his bawling tip can’t stop the heaping torrents of gooey white escaping from him. Such slick ribbons upon ribbons crawling their way up Geto’s washboard abs, you can only watch with bated breath as his messy, round globs of seed trickle up n’ down until they drench his dark happy trail.

Your watery thighs stick together, maw falling agape because you’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined this.

You had. Once or twice or many, many times.

All splayed out on his Digimon sheets like this; meaty thighs cracked open, silky locks slathered across every inch, glasses fogged up. Ruined. Geto’s sweat-shimmered back arches off the outdated bed springs with a creak! while his hand flew furiously up and down his swollen cock.

Shit, you’re biting your lip. Syllables jumping roughly off of your heavy tongue, “S-Suguru?”

SLAM!

It’s like the sound of your voice does heavenly wonders to him.

Plump, tender balls squeezing, Geto’s free hand encloses behind his sweaty scalp and onto the headboard above him. Hard enough that the sturdy frame snaps, pale biceps flexing enough that you find your skin clammy with need.

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s hissing through clenched teeth. Staring right at your meandering form through dazed half-crescents, mouth departing endless husked grunts. And oh…oh a few more dewy droplets of cum spray out of his bawling orifice once you gulp. “Look what you’ve done t’me.”

“Y-you’re an alpha?” You finally manage to find your voice.

He snickers, the murky scent of the room growing ever-stronger. And even more than that was your own scent, mixing and melding until you felt dizzy. “And you’re in danger, little omega~”

Your widened gaze grows to lock on the way that his rugged fingers continue milking out creamy sploshes of cum. Expertly flying up, up, up– before fisting his hefty base with an airy sigh.

Large. He was so large.

And in so many ways more than one.

An alpha. He was an alpha.

Seductively sculptured body dwarfing his single bed with what looked like miles upon miles of toned, tall muscles. Were those tattoos spying out from the sides of his back?

A syrupy geyser of sap formulates between his two legs the size of your head- this was Geto Suguru?

And his cock - oh, he was so perfectly massive. Oversized, even in Geto’s engulfing hand.

So painfully hard that he was blushing a blossoming magenta near the very tip of his globular cockhead, throbbing. Pulsing. Thick lightning bolts of veins gripping down either side of his pink shaft and all the way down to his breeder balls.

With a harrowed gasp filling your lungs, you’re spotting just the barest fringe of something soaked-through and gauzy tangled underneath his digits.

Fuck.

“Is that-”

“This?” Geto grins - grins. You’ve never seen him smile let alone show off this dopey, predatory leer plastering all over his flushed features. A gentle dimple embeds near his curled lip, and he quirks an eager brow.

You can barely even think while he untwines the frilly pair of panties you’d thrown at him in class from around his aching cock. Sticky and stretched now, it finds home right near his flared nostrils as Geto brings it up and sniffs. Crazed. “C’mere.”

The rawest of glints twinkle in his half-lidded vision as you inch closer, the way you tremble on your two feet like a newborn fawn was adorable. And he can’t stop himself from letting out a low whistle–

“Yeah. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your body kneels you right by Geto’s bedside before your mind can even think to catch up. Head lolling lecherously against the wide plane of his shivering thigh, you let your tongue lap up a pearl of his buttery white cum and keen. He was even bigger up close. “Sugu—”

“Nuh uh, gorgeous.” Geto tuts, gravelly tonality rendering you confused just as much as you were needy. His two palms grip the crown of your head to peer upwards, “S’all because of you. You n’ those d-damn panties. M’not your hck! nerdy fuckin’ Sugu right now. Best remember that- m’gonna make sure you remember that.”

He’s more than gazing down at you, he’s boring right through you.

Spectacle frames creeping precariously down his nose bridge, tendrils of his shaggy hair almost curtaining him, pellets of sweat trickle down his temples and hit you in thin spatters. So close. And you wanted him closer.

“Tilt your head back, lemme see that ngh- pretty mouth.” One hand slips from your head to curl around Geto’s fattened hilt, nudging his puckered tip to strike your lips with a dull thud! “Count.”

“One-”

And it’s not once.

“T-two-”

Not twice.

“Three- hah!”

Not thrice, until he’s leaving your mouth whimpering and stinging with the slam of his rock-hard shaft slapping down your tender flesh. Leaving a slimy trail of pre and salty cum that leaks between your maw and drives you wild.

Then - and only then - is he wrenching you up closer. Manhandling your pliable body until the very tip of his perfectly button nose meets yours. So close.

Your teary lashes flutter halfway shut once you feel the foggy breeze of his breath scorching your face, cunt quivering with the anticipation of a kiss. His pheromones hit you in powerful gusts, your primal urges scratching up to the surface.

Closer. Too close- for a kiss that never comes.

“Heh. Cute.”

He doesn’t kiss you.

But before you know it, Geto pitches his tongue back and wets your shimmery pouted lips with a large wad of his syrupy saliva.

In just a split-second.

Bowing you back underneath him and stuffing your chatty mouth so damn full of his swollen cock that you can’t even think of anything else. Fat droplets of tears fountain up at the edge of your eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so split open.

He was eight- no, maybe nearing ten whole inches that scraped the back of your mushy throat with his ruthless mushroom tip.

Hard. Girthy.

Cratering out a wet circumference of bruises into your melty mouth with a singular thrust, and it wasn’t enough- fuck, it might never be enough.

Geto’s throwing his head back, toned core muscles tensing. “O-oh. This. Th-this is what it feels like?”

You almost wonder whether he even knew what he was doing once you feel a shaky thigh throwing behind your neck and reel you in close. Drawing you all the way up until your nose scratches his tufted pelvis, mouth hanging wiiidely agape.

“Sh-shooo big–” You’re mumbling through a scalding mouthful, slicked walls clenching at the realization that he had you trapped in a headlock. And by the looks of it, he was never going to let go.

“Yeah- yeah?” He shudders out, bass cracking into a zillion shatters near the end. Octaves higher. Unsteady. Meanly, Geto’s leg jostles you even further from behind to probe his shaft even deeper into your velvety mouth, your chin buckling underneath his curvaceous ballsack. Holding you still. Firmly. “Fuckin’ l-like that, don’t you?”

You can’t nod. You can’t hum affirmative. He was so bulky inside you that your lips sag underneath the sheer weight.

But your omega preens for the attention, sleek tongue zig-zagging over one of the pounding veins that poked into the roof of your mouth. And it’s enough of an answer for Geto.

Spitting out, “Oh yeah? Dirty girl. Didn’t expect your loser lil’ Sugu to have such a fat fuckin’ dick, huh?”

So fucking…rude, words teetering right on just the edge of being menacing. And you were just so gorgeous crying all over his cock like this, so much better than when you were hanging off of other alphas.

So much better when he strays a thumb to feel your filling throat, the way he’s lodged deep inside. Him. All him.

You let off a whiny gag the moment his blushing red cockhead twitches up ferally at the thought. The static cotton in your head making you slurp his length with a sloppy squelch!

He’s pushing up his glasses furiously, “Can you even take it? Seriously- acting so popular n’ mighty when you can’t even take my hngh- cock.”

And you’re about to rebuke, you’re about to- you swear.

But oh, he didn’t have mercy now.

“Whaaaat? M’just saying.” The ridges of his head press up all against every nook and cranny of your mouth, a silvery trail of drool now seeping from between your locked lips. Geto wipes away his own cobwebs of drool with the back of his mouth, giggling. Giggling when you scuffle, “S’it too big? Too big for our f-famous lil’ omega?”

Your throat aches something carnally delicious when he keeps a hold ‘round your neck to plunge into the waterlogged bottom. Bobbing your head in lewd maneuvers allll the way up n’ down. “Ngh- Sugu–”

“Hah- hah!” His glassy eyes gleam something wild, microscopic tastebuds watering all over again with just how intensely he was gawking down at you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that his eyes were glowing- “Why are ya still fuckin’ speaking, gorgeous?”

It wasn’t a Command, but oh did it feel like one.

Only mere moments later and Geto’s springing himself off of the bouncy mattress to shovel your hot throat full of copious inches and leave you spellbound. Swirling a lazy few half-circles of his heavy tip where you were most sensitive.

“Cool that pretty lil’ head. You’re cuter when yer like th-this, y’know?” He groans, feeling your slippery cheeks grip his shaft in an adorable hug. Knee drawing up even tighter to hold you still while he fucked your mouth the way he’d been wishing he could for so long. “All shut up a-and mine and…”

Ah, breath wisping away. He’s prodding your poor gag reflexes at the very same time he rovers up a stray hand to squeeze your nostrils together. “-only mine.”

“Nghh- G-etooo—” And yet, he still doesn’t let up. You’re cupping Geto’s plumpened balls with a delicately loving touch, lustrous strands of spit layering your lips. “Want you.”

“Hm?”

“Want you.”

Oh.

Those are the very same words he’s been dreaming of every single rut since meeting you. And he can’t help himself, he can’t stop himself from letting out a slew of swears and cumming.

Shocked.

“Sh-shit—” It’s all Geto can do to bite down on the plush of his bottom lip and wrangle back those embarrassing fucking whimpers on his tongue, dewy eyes sparkling with a few overstimulated tears. “You’re gonna- f-fucking…”

But he’s not given the privilege to finish his thought let alone his sentence.

Just flooding your senses with the caramel salt of his scent, and his gobs of pearly seed. Every jackhammer has Geto pinpricking it on the back of your bruised and battered throat, every squeeze of his hand around your neck makes him drool out in wiry oodles of sap more and more and more-

“S’what you w-wanted, right?” And you’re sensing the way his scent tinged with something maddened, leaving your eyes popping. “Prancing around with your hah- p-pre-heat panties and your- fuck!” Geto fights to keep his eyes from flapping closed, “Take it- ohhhh take it all.”

As if you could do anything else.

Every tiny twitch leaves your cavern flooded. Geto was cumming so hard that it was overspilling from each crevice of your lips, a silvery waterfall of cum that he’s dabbing around a thumb to smear.

Letting your pouted lips wobble at the fresh topping of white gloss, “There’s a good girl. My goood fuckin’ girl.”

Oh, there’s no doubt in your fractured mind right now that Geto Suguru was an alpha. Inhaling his deep puffs of contentment, you’re arching your back mindlessly in delight. Throat loosening with the motions to-

“Don’t swallow.”

So mean.

You don’t think you’re given the split-second to wonder otherwise before he’s grappling for the pretty column of your throat and kissing you raw.

You’re gasping when his depraved tongue smacks down between the seam of your mouth to lather in every scorching hot mess of sap he’d left behind. The mess that he made. And he was only making it messier.

Watching you through barely-cracked open pupils while he scooped up the sticky webs of seed dangling from your mouth. Scratchy buds taking over. A kiss so filthy that you felt shy to even call it that.

“Mmm—” Geto’s skidding his tongue down the buttered length of his lips, flicking over any stray droplets he could find. And something in his eyes told you that he was mere seconds away from doing it all over again. “Not bad for a first kiss.”

Fuck- what?

“Sugu- what-” You’re panting out measly syllables through the gaps of his sappy mouth. “I-I thought you’d be more…”

“What? A heh- bumbling loser?” His eyes narrow down at you, words purring sexily. “Oh, gorgeous…”

Fuck, and if the rasping growl in his tone didn’t shut you up, the way that Geto’s throwing you onto the bouncy bed sure does.

He doesn’t have a care in the world, he doesn’t have a single thought other than ripping off your flimsy clothes. Everything but those very same cherry pink panties you’d teased up at him, well- more see-through than anything right now.

Kneeing apart your jittery legs to watch the way your cunt gushes in pure need. Lips curling into a leer at the way she winks up at him through filthy masses of slick.

“Sh-she’s mine now, isn’t she?” Rumbling out, eyes wide. Unfocused. And the look on Geto’s face made white-hot trills sprint down your spine - ones you couldn’t decode between primal need and fear. “She’s…”

Ptwah!

The vicious goblet of spit that hits you this time is somehow even meaner than the last, striking at the very top of your sobbing pussy and disappearing riiiight between your folds.

“Mine.” Awestruck, Geto bullies one capped knee to smooch up against your slit. Gleaming his heated skin with the bucketloads of cute sap that you kept pouring out by the second. Geto was greedy, he was grunting. “Beg for it, omega.”

You’re squirming underneath him impatiently, clawing all over his unmoving wrists. You ached all over for something. Anything. “Don’t- don’t wanna-”

But Geto had ten times your strength and wasn’t afraid of using it. Oh, he wasn’t afraid of using it - wasn’t afraid of pinning down both your trembly hands on the bed springs with one of his. Rutting his knee up even more mercilessly, murking his pheromones until it burned of salt and spice. “Beg.”

You mewl, “P-please-”

“No stuttering.”

“Please.” And if that wasn’t enough, you’re batting your lacquered lashes up at Geto in exactly the way you knew was his weakness. Exactly the way that got you the second-highest GPA for so long. Jutting your back the perfect curvature off of the bed, “I’ll let you k-keep my panties, Suguru—?”

“Oh, giiiirl—” He husks out, leaning in so close to plant a yearning snog on your mouth. Blushing pink lips wrapping around your tongue and sucking. You always got what you wanted. “M’keeping those regardless.”

In his special drawer for all your slutty underwear, of course.

And just as soon as Geto’s kissing your lips, he’s trekking his way downwards to make sure that your other ones don’t feel left out.

“Look at her.” He breathes, words taking on an airy tone that makes him sound as if he was furious. Blistering with the anger that he’s been deprived of the heavenly proximity of your soft, seeping cunt for so long. “H-heh, if o-only those tch- popular friends of yours could see. Just look- look how wet she is f’me. All me.”

A fattened thumb fringes past your panties, and you flinch at the cold press of his silver rings. Rovering all the way to greet your puffy pussylips in languid drags uuuuup and down, pricking his manicured fingernail on the button of your clit.

Geto’s hooded lids widen, heat rushing all over his cheeks at the sloppy squelches he draws out. So easily. Adorably.

And it was true - he did have a tattoo. A splashing inking of a dragon all across Geto’s muscled back, somehow making him even more unintentionally hotter.

“And look how loud mmm–” He’s kissing the mound of your folds like a lover, lingering. Loving. Stealing deeeeep gasps of your scent, “M’gonna ruin you. Ngh- ohhh, m’gonna r-ruin you, gorgeous. Ruin ya for anyone else.”

And when Geto meant he was going to ruin you - he meant it.

“Shit.” He was going to mush his pretty features up into your sopping wet pussy until you could feel every minute, warm pant. Staring right up into the target of your fuzzy heart-eyes, “How do you- how do you taste so good.”

Every gasp he’s drinking in of your murked perfumed pheromones, showering ‘round every sense and making him dizzy.

“Squeeze- wanna feel-”

And maybe it’s his rut, maybe it’s the way your tension was so thick - but you instantaneously know what to do.

To close your legs in a deadlock around Geto’s oily scalp. Your weighty eyelids bat up and down subconsciously at the attractive way he was digging his bulging biceps into the sides of your thighs. Pulling you in closer and closer and closer. “That turns you on, huh?”

But that wasn’t all- oh, that wasn’t what he was making out with your cute cunt and begging for.

His mouth lathers over with a fresh bout of watery spit the moment your rubbery ring of muscle clench all around him. Making every ridge of his hot tongue catch on your gooey innards, the texture of it enough to drive you positively wild.

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re letting out a primal groan, clawing at his tattooed back. Chest shuddering underneath the strain of one powerful hand pinning you down. Holding you painfully still. “Suguru- want more. More.”

Slipping his slick tongue in and out of your fluttery hole, Geto keens at the way your entrance kept on trying to suck him back in.

“Fuckin’ know-” In one second, he’s pushing his cloudy glasses up his nose, and in the other he pries apart your puffed lips and caresses. “Yer turning into a fucking w-waterpark, dirty girl. Even wetter than all that p-porn I learned from…”

You’re whimpering, legs falling further n’ further open until it burned your inner quads. No matter how deeply Geto stuffed his face between them it just wouldn’t be enough.

It was almost as if…

“Heat.” He’s slurring a looong lap of his grooved tastebuds all over the lustre of your sweet, sweet juices. Free hand wrapping at his favorite position around your neck and making sure to angle your head so that you catch the twinkling droplets of slick pouring down his tongue. “You’re in heat, little omega.”

Gasping, “W-what?”

But it made sense. It was falling into place and that only made you wetter.

With a smirk, Geto swats your hands until they tangle into his silken tresses. “Lemme take care of you.” SWAT! The plapping sensation hits you before the realization that he’d run his crowned digits over to spank your perked clit. “Ngh- just sit tight n’ let your nerdy ol’ Sugu here take g-goood care of you.”

He was pleading with you - begging you - to latch onto his pretty locks and grind your pussy in repeated gyrations all over his face. Guiding him, using the hook of his pert nose as the perfect ridge to rest your throbbing clit on.

“Th-thank you, alpha—” Too good. You were giving into something baser, to let your head loll into the cushy pillow behind you in sweeping motions. And it was so cute he could cum.

“Yeah? Who- who?”

“You, Suguru.”

“Damn right.”

With every drag of his hoarse syllables, Geto was trawling his face across every inch between the beautiful legs that you had to offer.

Purposefully.

You’re holding back his endless, inky strands just to admire how pretty he looked. How ravenous. Greedy.

Fuck, Geto was making up for all these years he spent parched. Spitting out streak after streak of spittle that made your pussy pour out all over his snogging mouth. “Gonna- gonna fuck you like this w’my cock next.”

His tongue folds into your slobbery hole and slithers into every tender orifice - so staggeringly long that you were feeling a lump in your own throat.

Just a few flops into your earliest magical spots and Geto could already hear the way you were fighting to hide your little sobs.

“Th-this right here-” He’s probing a finger underneath the panties that stuck to your cunt like adhesive, letting it spring back to hit you with a smack! Tittering at your yelp, “S’mine.”

Rubbing a fat few crowns of his fingerpads at the tender area underneath the base of your pussy. Pressing down. Hard. “And her? All the w-way from here-”

Drawing sensual patterns up, up uuuup all the way to your sensitive clit, and oh- it felt so right to have him draw sultry little hearts on your weepy hood.

Tugging it over to nip underneath one sharp canine - one that you swear had grown even longer in the last few minutes. Geto was gone in the depths of his rut, hallowing out his cheeks to eat you out as if he was a man starved. And you were his favorite dessert. “To here? S’mine, too.”

RIIIIIP—!

Through your glossy heaps of tears, you can make out the fuzzy shapes of Geto tearing your satiny underwear into tatters. Balling it up into a wad of sugarcoated fabric that he unapologetically stuffs in your drivelling mouth.

“Gonna add these t-to my collection.” You feel him smile against the outer edges of your claggy cunt, tittering at the stupid way your overspilling lips slacken with a soggy pwah! You’re hearing and feeling a long-winded woooosh from below once he takes a deeeep breath in with his over-delicate senses. “Th-thereeee we go. Cum all over my mouth, gorgeous.”

And if you were in any better state of mind perhaps you’d have noticed the way that Geto’s driving his hips into the bed like a damn dog when he sensed your scent peaking. Sensed you getting closer.

Ragged breaths striking your quivering pussy mercilessly and making your teeth sink desperately into the muggy jumble of underwear in your mouth.

Your broken moans burst out even through that particular watergate, right along with a slithery trickle of saliva and a huff of “S-Suguru—” Craning your head to watch his nostrils flare with knowing, “Close- clo- cumming.”

Eyes flashing. Heart thumping not just within your rib cage.

When it rains, it pours.

But you weren’t just pouring - you were flooding.

Such glutinous ropes of your orgasm, it sprays Geto’s sexy face in squirts. Clinging onto the edge of his glasses and forming little puddles right at the apples of his high cheeks.

Suddenly, you were oh-so-thankful for the way he’d stuffed your mouth mercilessly full - because by the rusted rasp in your throat, you’re sure you’re singing out shrill trills loud enough that his neighbors would file a noise complaint.

But that was the last thing on his mind.

The last thing- well, fuck, it wasn’t on his mind at all. Geto’s cooing at how unstable you feel, treacherous fingers mazing across your fat clit and giving her a goood few pushes just the way he would with his gameboys.

“Good girl-” he spits into your gapingly widened cunt, still suffering from the remnant tremors of your high and still slopping out wads of juices. Like a mantra, Geto’s dark brows scrunch in concentration, “Good girl good girl gooood fucking girl.”

Words hitching up into something shrill near the edge, he sounded as if he was fraying his sanity with every droplet of slick you pumped into his mouth. With every single second.

Pushing his aching hot cock deeper and deeper into the sullied sheets. More. He needed more.

Every sloppy swivel of your widely pried-apart pussy on his tongue made him leave an open-palmed smack! on your thigh. Other hand traipsing to pin your hips down with his big, vein-decorated forearm.

He doesn’t want to let go.

You’re barely letting off a whine at the lack of friction before Geto lets his mouth depart from your cunt with a soggy pwah! Leaving a final few French kisses on his favorite sweet orifice, he’s pecking a loooong open-mouthed pathway up to your loosened maw.

“Good girl…” He hiccups, clammy forehead sticking against yours. Each syllable struggles to wrench past the leaden ball slowly forming on Geto’s mouth.

The syrup-glazed lenses of his glasses clash into you, and Geto himself seems to notice. “Look what a fuckin’ mess ya made.” He’s gruffing out at the thick topping of oozing gloss that made the frame impossible to see through.

Immediately pulling back a few millimeters to take them off and dump them on your own nose bridge. Unceremoniously.

And it was so wet.

Almost as wet as Geto’s features were - all showered in gunky dredges of glistening sap. It streaks all the way from his pointed chin and up to his handsome cheekbones. Beads of it hitting your panting chest in a pat! pat! pat!

Heaving out a shaky exhale, he’s pushing away a few elegant strands of charcoal bangs.

“M’gonna…m’gonna fuck you now.” Sounding more as if he was talking to himself rather than you. Or perhaps both. Puffy folds being rubbed all raw with the depraved back and forth of his veiny under-shaft. “Gonna fuck you. So take it- take it.”

Geto stares deep into your whirling eyes while he sinks his hefty cock into you just as thoroughly. A clingy film sticks to his gaze, dazed and all half-hooded that you wondered if he could even register what was in front of him.

Crazed.

And he’s such a fucking tease, too.

Creating a slimy trail of pasty pre all over your weakened inner thighs, he drags his bawling divot all over every stretch of your entrance. Around and around in circles.

“B-big, huh? Better take it b-before I- make it- fit-” He’s echoing, dimples peaking out at the cute way your breath hitches once you feel the sheerly massive circumference of his fat tip. “Shhhh shh sh, s’alright- s’where you’re m-meant to ngh- be.”

Even for an alpha, he was always staggering - but having him stuffing you to the brim would be a whole other feeling. Would have you ruined.

You’re peering up at him through humid lashes, borrowed glasses smearing wet splotches of slick underneath your skin. Eventually, those panties had found themselves spilling out of your unfastened jaw, “Meant to- hah! be?”

“Mhmmm— pretty omega.” You’re hit with a sudden wave of coaxing pheromones, the gentle salty breeze making your hips buck subconsciously upwards. Subconsciously aching. “This s’where you’re ngh- meant to be.”

And as much as Geto loved hearing whiny questions bubble their way up to your spit-layered lips, oh- was it so much more fun to eye down at your speechless self when he snugly squeezes just a mere sensual inch.

Leaning back to watch the way his bustling cock was stretching and stretching and stretching your tender walls flawlessly. You were taking him so ridiculously well.

“Fuh-fuck you-” His plush pecs rumble with his bass from above, words tumbling. Hips rolling. And Geto was fucking gone- staring at you with wide, humorless eyes that you doubt were even seeing. “Fuck you- m’fucking you…fuck you fuck you fuck!”

With every sharp fah! being whirled into your loose mouth, Geto rubs his puffed-up veins into the tender mound of your cunt. You can’t help but count every rapid ba-dump—! his achy length throbs.

Desperately. Rutting and rutting just to fit himself inside.

Around the time he’s only halfway in, Geto circles one hand over his drenched base to skid taut O’s at the edge of your hole. Nudging his fat girth past your entrance and keening-

“M-more!” You’re barking out primally, your tongue tied into all sorts of bows and ribbons with the way this stretch was searing. And it was the best sort of tight fit, you were practically drooling all over again at the fleshy thwack! of Geto’s rounded balls smacking your thighs. “More, Sugu—”

“M-more…?”

It wasn’t just you - your luna needed more, too.

You’re nodding and nodding- only to realize with a harsh muffle of Geto’s palm over your noisy mouth that he wasn’t even talking to you.

No, he was tittering away in a small sort of voice. Octaves higher. Strained. Goosebumps smatter all across your skin at the way he sounded so unstable.

“More…” Irises flashing a glowy purple, fingers twitching where he held you. A loser like him. A nerd like him. “M-more she says.”

Fuck.

Without another word - without another breath - Geto’s flipping you around with only one beefy palm clawing at your hip. Shoving your face deep into the puff of his nerdy pillows, he’s bottoming out with just one thrust-

You think you scream, you think you bawl once you feel his plummy mushroom head draw a long line of pre along the insides of your cervix. And your pussy felt so full you could burst, your walls crushed with all overpacked inches of his.

Finally.

“Thaaaat’s it, that’s it-” He’s grunting through furiously clenched teeth, a hand crowning the back of your scalp and muffling your words into the bed. Hard. Fuck- he was going to pass out if you made another pretty sound. “S’where you belong.”

Ah, there it is - that little broken prayer.

Except, this time it was being respired in boiling hot pants against the tips of your ears. Was being wheezed out of Geto when he lurches his sweat-simmered hips back to hit your ass with a resounding pap!

“All f-fucked dumb on my ngh- biiig fucking cock, hm?” He tilts your head up with one hand, smiling to himself once he catches a glittery flash of spit leaking from your lips. “All…” A warm splatter! strikes your back, and only then do you realize that he’s slobbering. “Mine.”

And where Geto was talking all possessively - he was fucking you even more so.

In the blink of an eye, he’s planting two sets of fingers on either of your wrists and pulling all the way back, back, back. A length foot being placed right at the small of your spine to get you to bend in a delicious arch-

“Fuck!” Your cute voice rings hoarse, like music to his blushing ears. Struggling to regain the gasps of air leaving your lungs, “There- th-there.”

Oh, shit.

The way Geto was manhandling you was not only bending you in all sorts of lecherously pliable ways that had your slit dripping, it was making his rotund cockhead stub oh-so-viciously into your cervix.

Rough. Probing.

“H-heh, guess I lost my first kiss there, too.” He’s giggling out, biting down on the rugged mewls that threaten to depart every time your cunt swallows him whole. “Congrats on being my ngh- first, little omega— yer e-even better than my ngh- bodypillows of you.”

Bending you over ever-deeper, honestly- your walls were cloying onto him so desperately that it was making Geto’s heart pang with disappointment every time his ruddied tip recoiled back from the bottom of your sloppy pussy.

He wanted to be this close to you forever.

Treacling out stringy wads of pre, he’s furrowing brows and making sure each n’ every jackhammer fills you up impossibly.

You can barely grapple for air at this point, the sloshes of syrup left after each barrelling strike leaving you star-struck.

He grins, “Shit, d-do ya ever stop fuckin’ drooling? Gonna hafta call the f-fire department, girl.”

“Can’t help it–!” All you can do it let your mouth unlatch to warble whimper after whimper–

“C’mon now, gorgeous- aren’t ya ashamed?” Licking his lips free of your taste, Geto diverts more pressure to his foot. Hefty balls rippling wickedly against the sobbing end of your slit with just how easy you were to throw around like his favorite toy. Like his favorite figurines. “Look at what a mess yer making. Being fucked so f-filthy. And I haven’t even ngh- found it, yet.”

Haven’t found it. Oh, but he knew he was going to. He was going to make you scream.

Your syrupy whines slip into something desperate, “Y-you don’t know…?”

“Of course I f-fuckin’ know. Who d’ya think you’re ngh talking to?” As if you could forget you were being thoroughly pounded by the smartest person on campus right now. And evidently the filthiest, too.

A ringed finger treks down to your sensitive nub, soothing over where you were throbbing the most violently. Cute. Lulling you into a sweet, sweet state of bliss before Geto pinches–

“Oh p-please!” You’re targeting your hazy vision over your shoulder, and somewhere along the lines Geto’s spectacles had slid cleanly off of you. Toes curling as his bloated head bludgeons just the creamy edges near your g-spot. “Please- y-you’re so close, Suguru-”

You didn’t know whether it was your heat or just Geto that had you so desperate. Your sparkless mind blames the latter.

“Am I?” He hums, leaning over so that the soft tendrils of his hair tickled your back.

Whacking his painfully achy crownhead mere centimeters below your magical spots, and you’re starting to think he’s doing this on purpose.

Geto starts holding it there for lingering French snogs into the steamy inner depths of your cunt and then you know he’s doing this on purpose. Spitting in your mouth with a smile.

That mean bastard.

Jittering your hips to chase the texture of his curly pubic hair against your ass, he snickers. “Are you ngh- suuuure? You haven’t done a s-single one of your ngh- human biology essays lately, dirty girl.”

You’re molding your lips into a pout - difficult, with just how many loads of saliva were pouring out of you and cementing a puddle onto the Digimon pillows. “F-fuck you.”

“No…” You set free a gasp of air you didn’t know you were holding the very second he lets go of the rough foot anchoring your spine, instead- in only mere nanoseconds you find yourself jerked up into Geto Suguru’s hold with a hand at your throat. Back gluing against his glissading abs, even his voice was unbalanced and trembling now. “I’m fucking you, little omega.”

And you were about to remember it.

With an immediate pitch of his gasping breaths, Geto’s angled hips go from steadily ruined to sloppy. Calculated.

He didn’t care if he made a mess of stringy slick that circled in the satiny sheets around the two of you, he didn’t care if your eyes were bulging out of their poor sockets when his pronounced hips dig into your backside with blistering bruises.

He didn’t care for anything but digging the curled fringe of his fatly bloated tip right into the target of your g-spot.

Mazing through your gluey folds and keeping them snugly open with his reddened girth, Geto knocks your sweetest spots with vengeance.

“There–!” You call out, as if he hadn’t already felt the gooey seize of your pussy trying to hold him hostage.

His mouth trudges over your throat, fingers roaming over to give your clit a nice few pinches. Meaningfully, “Here? Orrrr–” Punctuating each word, each second with a thorough drilling into your g-spot. “-here? Make up th-that ditzy lil’ mind. Seriously.”

Your head drunkenly crashes on top of his collarbone and stays there, “R-right here- there. Both, Sugu.”

“Again with the f-fucking Sugu-” Geto snarls out, though you can sense by his cloudy scent that he was anything but irritated with you.

Your whines had quietened down into something more of an incoherent mess, and the main things ringing in Geto’s ears right now were the creaky protests of his bed and the clammy plops of his thrusts.

“C’mon now— where’s my bossy fuck! omega? The one who loves her poor, nerdy Sugu?”

Arousal reaching a peak, and now that he’d found your g-spot, he was probing into it with fat thuds. Not just once or twice. Nooooo, it was over and over and-

“Just w-wanna cum—” you’re sobbing out. Jerking your body like a bobble-head up and down to further feel the drag of his Herculean form behind you, to savor each ridge and sculpted curve sweatily massaging your back. “P-pleeeeease, Suguru. Let me cum?”

Swerving his tensing hips out alllll the way back to leave solid smooches ‘round your pussy entrance each and every time, and then there were the squelches-

Oh, you were just flooding a slippery sheen all over his hefty, swelling base. A viscid luster of slick that glided all the way down to drip off of his sack n’ between his legs.

Your eyes manage to snatch themselves open- hissing at the realization that it was pooling especially around that particularly ballooned-up ring right over Geto’s breeder balls.

Was that? With a shiver you’re rutting backwards, feeling for yourself the slow drag of his proud knot. Bigger than any else you’ve ever seen. It was.

You rasp, throat itchy and raw. Sweltering droplets of tears streaming down your cheeks when he matches the stuttering beat of your heart with every pressurized push- “P-please.”

“Needy thing. Cum, huh?” Geto drawls out, voice thick with need and something else you were too stupid to register right now. He collides you even tighter against rippling pecs. Taking the sweet, sweet opportunity to poke his nose into your scent gland and steal a looooong breath of your overdriven pheromones.

“Cum then, c-cum. Fucking cum all over my cock.”

Fuck, it’s with those exact words in mind that you do.

Startling straight headfirst into your high - and you don’t think you’ve even crashed into one wave of bliss before the other overtakes you. And another. And another-

“Oh g-god—” You’re trilling, only held up by the ruthless grip that Geto was maintaining. His hips were deep, and your pleasure even deeper. “-please. Please- please, Sugu-”

He’s hunching over your body ever-so-slightly, resting your thighs against his thick, flexing ones. Only bending you over to kiss your g-spot even more sinfully, Geto’s response comes out ragged into your lobes. “Tch, wh-what now?”

His ruby-red tip was blushing like a strawberry and just as plump - swirling around your treasure trove of spots, pounding you through each peak of your orgasm until you saw stars.

“Cum i-insiiiide-” Your barely-audible groans spring out into the heady air, adding to its hypnotic mix of perfumes. And it’s not just the heat that made you crave Geto carnally, every pap! against the puffy ring at his base making you crave more more more- “Want it a-all up…”

You’re trailing off, melted mind unable to do multiple things at once.

With tottering fingerpads, you’re trapping one of his palms underneath your own. Homing itself right above where his rounded tip was stretching open your insides, right above your womb.

“H-here, okay? Don’t miss-”

You blink up at him and Geto thinks he might just be having a heart attack. Sparks fizzing around his sloshed brain, “Fuh-fuuuuck– don’t talk out of yer pussy, gorgeous.” He spanks your clit once. Twice just to watch your eyes glaze over stupidly. “Or m’gonna get you pregnant.”

Soothing over that faint bulge he was fucking into your tummy, “Gonna h-have my baby growing allll up in here. Make you round and…” His voice sounds faint, whispering. “-big and…glowing. And…and pregnant.”

But, ah- you never did make it easy for him. Did you? Always had to have your way.

Which Geto Suguru gladly gave.

“But I want that, Sugu—” You pout, “Wan’ your knot…please?”

You didn’t have to say another word before Geto’s finishing off in such a messy way, reaching the biggest fucking orgasm he’s had in his entire life. The strongest. The most heavenly and oh- oh, were you an angel?

He’s collapsing onto the drenched sheets before he knows it, pinning you down with the strong v-line of his hips.

“Shit-” Geto emits through the cracks in his bitten canines. “Shit shit shit- shit-”

You don’t know who’s losing their mind more, you or him. Falling into the well of a second, third, perhaps even fourth orgasm with how blissfully his fattened, split-ended cock bruised every nook of your adhesive-like walls.

Your saliva cascades in puddles that soak the pillows through. “Suguruuu�� a-are you okay-”

“Do I look okay?”

Sexily ridged abs kneading your back, hands scrambling on the mattress, inked shoulders shivering. His swollen knot hits and hits your pussymound.

And it’s only once his trembly fingers latch around his glasses - fumbling, dropping it copious times before Geto manages to push them haphazardly onto his face.

Tilting his head back just enough degrees to watch as the curved fringe of his knot disappears past your puffy folds.

“There we- there…” He’s driveling clingy wads of translucent saliva, letting the stray pouring excess hit your fluttering hole with a splat! One eager thumb of Geto’s hooks into your entrance and bullies it aside to let his incredible perimeter sink iiiiiiiiin-

He’s melting into you now, spent. Ruined. “Get pregnant.” Geto whispers into your sweat-glossed shoulder blade once he feels the back of his knot get fully enveloped into your pussy with a gummy pop! Once he feels himself finally tip over- “Get pregnant.”

And it’s not just mindless babbling - it’s a promise.

A promise that he rasps out time and time against with every wadded slip of seed that dollops out across your cervix. Pushing it so deep. Smearing acres of ribbony streaks all over your most precious orifices and spots.

“Gonna know wh-what we did.” Geto whimpers, shit- he couldn’t pound his voluminous ounces of cum into you as aggressively as he wanted with this damn knot. “Entire campus. Professors. Everyone’s gonna know ngh- how I fucked ya full. F-fucked you pregnant. Gonna wonder.”

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

That didn’t stop him from wrenching out a hand to squeeze the ends of your sopping wet slit, forcing down on his very knot. Squeezing out so many numerous dredges of syrupy white cum that thwack! thwack! thwacks! a filthy second skin against your walls.

“Fuh-fuuuuck— get pregnant, gorgeous.” He’s rutting. Grinding. Humping you like some beast more than man. “Gonna l-look at you all round n’ big and see me- me me me. Get pregnant get pregnant get-”

Geto’s mouth parts at the pearly dewdrops of seed that leak from the overstuffed ends of your cunt. He can feel his entire body twitch, can feel his sharpened teeth lacquer so rabidly.

He still wasn’t done.

Still letting one prespired forearm of his dangle around your neck, manhandling you into a fucking headlock. The other tracing the edges of his digits over your glands, squeezing until your skin was all tender and raw.

And puffy.

Perfect for him to tilt his head and bite—

“Ohhh- yes!” Every fibre of your being delights at the way Geto’s biting you so hard that you can smell crimson iron. Your pheromone bubble pops! to mix together with his own. Becoming one. And you can scent him - you can feel him.

Glasses clashing, teeth tearing. Before you know it, you’re doing the same. “Suguruuuu— m’yours.”

Your mate latches onto the curves of your hips - your soon-to-be birthing hips.

And the way Geto rediscovers that - tucking his face into the ruined, drenched fabric of those cherry pink panties and taking an endless, husky sniff - tells you that this was going to be a long, loooong night.

“Mine.”

A/N. MMMMMMMMM NERD GETOOOOOOOO

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo x reader #tonywrites

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thatssomegoodsoup · 4 months ago

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DR.NOWHERE X READER HC MASTERLIST

THE BOILED ONE X READER HCs

SOAP X READER X JEPPY HCs

#the boiled one x reader #jeppy x soap x reader #soap x reader #jeppy x reader #jeppy x soap #fanfic #headcanon #x reader #fanfiction #jeppy jothers #dr nowhere soap #soap headcanons #soap #dr nowhere #fic masterlist #masterlist #headcanon masterlist

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pandapetals · 16 days ago

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Mine To Keep

Summary: After a heated encounter at the Tipsy Bison, Joel’s possessive streak is set off when a cocky newcomer makes a crude comment about you. Tension boils over into desperate, filthy lovemaking back home, where Joel reminds you exactly who you belong to.

Pairing: joel miller x fem!wife reader

Word count: 5k

Content warnings: smut, established relationship, married joel, possessiveness, heavy dirty talk, mama pet name used, other pet names, breeding kink, fingering, oral, squirting, p in v sex, creampie, aftercare, some fluff, banter/teasing from Tommy

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics. Do I want kids? No. Would I give Joel a litter? Yes. New kink unlocked. Also, this is not an original idea; sue me. I'm just feral over Pedro.

The Tipsy Bison buzzed with low laughter, the clatter of glass against wood, and the scratch of boots on the scuffed floorboards. Warm, smoky air clung to your skin when you stepped inside, the scent of old whiskey and woodsmoke curling in your nose. Conversations hummed around you, mixing familiar voices and the occasional burst of raucous laughter from the corner tables.

You didn’t bother stopping at the bar or pretending you were here for anything but him.

Your eyes found Joel instantly, as if your body knew where to look before your mind caught up. He was bent over the pool table, cue in hand, the curve of his broad shoulders and thick forearms framed by the golden glow of the overhead light. His tanned skin gleamed, stretched tight over muscle, the sleeves of his Henley shoved up to his elbows. Every practiced movement he made, every shift of his hips, sent a pulse of heat through you.

Goddamn, he was handsome.

You dragged your lower lip between your teeth, pulse fluttering low in your belly. It didn’t matter that it was late or that the whole town might whisper about you chasing after your husband like a lovesick fool. Let them talk. All you wanted was him — home, in your bed, with his arms around you so you could finally sleep.

Tommy stood nearby, beer in hand, a lazy grin tugging at his mouth. A few other men lingered around them, voices blending into the warm hum of the room.

“Think your wife’s lookin’ for you, big brother,” Tommy called out, his teasing voice cutting through the chatter as his gaze landed on you.

Joel straightened, glancing over his shoulder. The moment his eyes met yours, something in his expression softened, the faint crease in his brow easing. He set the pool cue aside, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that made your breath catch.

“Whatcha doin’ here, sweetheart?” Joel rumbled, his voice low and rough.

You didn’t answer immediately — just crossed the room like some invisible thread was pulling you. The noise and light of the bar dulled at the edges of your senses the moment you reached him, your arms sliding around his waist like it was the only place you belonged.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,” you murmured, voice soft enough that only he could catch it.

His familiar scent filled your head, grounding you in a way nothing else could. Joel let out a quiet sigh, one hand resting on the small of your back, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy circle against your spine. His gaze flicked toward the clock above the bar, and you felt the tension in his chest when he realized the hour.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice thick with regret. “Didn’t realize it was so late, baby.”

You shrugged, fingers toying absently with the edge of his belt, the rough denim warm under your touch. The simple act made Joel’s throat work in a swallow, his free hand tightening on the pool cue.

From behind him, one of the younger guys — Wes, you thought his name was — chuckled into his drink. “Jesus, Miller,” he drawled, grinning around the rim of his glass. “A man that whipped, I swear. Must be some kinda magic between her legs, huh?”

The words landed like a spark in dry grass. Joel stiffened, his jaw ticking as he slowly turned to glare at the kid, his arm pulling you a fraction tighter against his side. The easy, good-natured grin he’d worn moments ago was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel said, voice calm in that dangerous, unhurried way.

The table went quiet for a beat too long. Tommy let out a short laugh to cut the tension, clapping Wes on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. “Ah, c’mon now. Don’t poke the bear, son. He’ll tear your damn head off.”

Wes raised his hands in mock surrender, but Joel’s eyes were already back on you, softer now, like nothing else in the room mattered.

“Let’s go home, handsome,” you murmured.

Joel’s jaw flexed, a muscle ticking in his cheek as his hand slid from your back to your hip, holding you close. His gaze stayed on yours, something unspoken passing between you. He gave a stiff nod, about to walk away when Wes opened his damn mouth again.

“Shame you’re leavin’ already,” Wes called, leaning back against the pool table with a cocky grin. His eyes dragged over you, slow and bold. “Didn’t realize Miller’s wife had such a pretty mouth on her. Bet she’s a fuckin’ firecracker in bed too, huh, Joel?”

The words hung in the air, sharp as broken glass.

The room stilled. A few guys exchanged glances, Tommy’s grin fading into a scowl as he straightened up from his stool.

“The hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, stepping toward Wes before your brain could catch up to your mouth. Heat rose in your chest, anger snapping through you like a whip.

But you barely made it two steps before Joel’s hand clamped around your waist. He hauled you back against his chest like you weighed nothing at all, his body slotting between you and Wes with lethal precision.

“Behind me, baby,” Joel growled, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt the tension rippling through him — the tight coil of muscle, the storm brewing behind his eyes. His fingers flexed against your hip as his other hand balled into a fist, making Wes flinch.

“That’s my fuckin’ wife you’re talkin’ about,” Joel said, each word slow, deliberate, and deadly. His voice dropped to a dark, dangerous rasp. “And you’re one more word away from pickin’ your teeth up off this floor.”

Wes’s smirk faltered, his throat bobbing as the color drained from his face. The rest of the bar went quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the faint clinking of glass in the far corner.

“Alright, alright,” Tommy cut in quickly, stepping between them, a hand on Joel’s chest. “Easy, brother. He’s an idiot, ain’t worth it.”

You reached for Joel’s hand, which gripped your hip, lacing your fingers with his. “Come on, baby,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the pulse pounding in your ears. “Let’s just go.”

Joel didn’t move. His glare was still pinned to Wes, who had the good sense to look away. Then Joel huffed a sharp breath, squeezing your hand before turning toward the door, keeping you close at his side.

Tommy clapped Joel on the shoulder as you passed. “Get her home, big brother. I’ll handle this shit.”

Joel didn’t answer, focusing entirely on you as he opened the door and guided you into the cool night air.

The walk home was thick with silence. It hummed with tension, electric and heavy, stretching between you. Joel’s grip on your hand was firm, his palm rough and warm against yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

You could feel it in him — the rigid line of his shoulders, the way his jaw stayed tight, his strides just a little longer than usual, like he was still chasing the fight he’d left behind in that bar. Every few steps, you rubbed your thumb along his wrist to soothe the fire simmering beneath his skin.

The lights of your house came into view, a soft glow in the darkness. Joel’s voice finally broke the quiet, low and rough.

“Is Ellie home?” he asked, eyes fixed on the front door.

You shook your head, your pulse picking up even before the words left your mouth. “No, she’s at Dina’s—”

You didn’t get the rest out.

Joel’s hand tightened around yours as he spun you toward him, backing you up against the porch rail before you could blink. His mouth was on yours in an instant — hot, desperate, claiming. The kiss wasn’t soft. It was teeth and tongue and the low, possessive growl in the back of his throat, his hand sliding to the small of your back, pressing you into the hard line of his body.

You gasped against his mouth, fingers fisting in the front of his shirt as heat flared through you, molten and sudden. His other hand cupped your jaw, angling your face the way he wanted, deepening the kiss like a man starved.

“Goddamn it,” Joel rasped against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Your heart pounded, your skin flushed from the sudden rush of him, from the possessiveness still radiating off his body like heat from a fire.

“Get what?” you managed, voice breathless.

He kissed you again, slower but no less intensely, his hand sliding down to squeeze your hip. “What you do to me,” he murmured, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, cheek, and jaw. “Watchin’ some punk look at you like that… talk about you like that… Jesus, baby.”

You shivered, arching into him, your fingers tugging at his belt like they had in the bar, but now with clear intent.

“Then show me,” you whispered.

Joel’s eyes darkened, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. “I plan to, sweetheart.”

Joel reached past you, shoved the door open, and pulled you inside like a man past the point of reason. The door slammed shut behind you, the soft click of the lock barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Before you could take a single step, his mouth was on your neck — hot, open-mouthed kisses, his teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. He sucked at the delicate skin just below your jaw, a low groan rumbling from his chest when your fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moaned, your head tipping back to give him more access.

His hands found your hips, dragging you against him, the hard line of his arousal grinding into your belly. Every touch was rough and needy, as if he was still chasing the high of what happened at the bar, and the only thing that could settle him was you.

Somehow, you made it to the couch, stumbling, pulling at clothes between frantic kisses. Shirts tugged halfway off, jeans yanked down just enough — it wasn’t graceful. Heat and desperation, limbs tangling and mouths colliding like you’d fall apart if you didn’t touch.

By the time Joel dropped to his knees in front of you, your top was still on, bunched up over your ribs, your legs spread wide on either side of him. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked up at you from between them.

“Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ night,” he rasped, his voice a gravelly promise that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Then his mouth was on you.

A sharp cry left your lips as his tongue dragged through your folds before his lips closed around your clit. He sucked, hard, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through your core. Your back arched off the couch, fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring yourself to him as heat bloomed low in your belly.

Joel groaned against you, the vibration of it making your hips buck. His hands pinned you down, thumbs digging into your thighs as his tongue worked you over — long, wet strokes mixed with sharp flicks of his tongue, his scruff rough against your sensitive skin.

“Joel—oh, God—baby,” you gasped, your voice breaking on a whimper as he sucked your clit between his lips again, his tongue relentless.

He grunted in approval, one hand leaving your thigh to slide a thick finger inside you, curling just right. You cried out, the pressure building fast, your body strung taut, teetering on the edge.

Joel pulled back just long enough to murmur, voice thick and wrecked, “Told you I’d show you, darlin’. Gonna make you come all over my tongue.”

Then he was back on you, tongue and fingers working in perfect, devastating rhythm — and you knew you wouldn’t last long.

Your body was on fire.

Every flick of Joel’s tongue, every curl of his fingers pushed you higher, the pleasure building sharp in your belly. You could barely breathe, panting, gasping his name like a prayer, your fingers fisting so hard in his hair your knuckles ached.

“F-fuck—Joel, I’m—” you stammered, voice trembling, hips bucking despite his iron grip.

He groaned against you, the sound deep and hungry, his mouth sealing around your clit and sucking hard. His fingers curled inside you just right, and the coil inside you snapped.

Pleasure shattered through you, sharp and white-hot. Your cry broke from your throat, back arching off the couch, legs shaking as your orgasm tore through you.

And then it happened — a rush of wetness, sudden and overwhelming. You felt yourself gush against his mouth, a choked moan tumbling out of you as your vision blurred.

“Oh my— fuck, Joel, I—I can’t—”

But Joel didn’t stop.

He growled low in his throat, his tongue lapping at your release like a man possessed, hands tightening on your thighs to hold you open as you writhed. The way you’d fallen apart, the way you soaked him — it only drove him wilder.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips slick, beard damp with you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with pure, feral hunger. “Look at you… fuckin’ perfect. Such a good girl.”

His mouth was back on you before you could catch your breath, tongue working you through every aftershock, every tremble, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a whimpering, shaking mess against the couch cushions.

“J-Joel—s’too much,” you gasped, half-laughing, half-crying as your body shuddered under him.

He only grunted, one last possessive suck against your clit before he finally let you go, his mouth glistening, his chest heaving. He looked up at you like he hadn’t even begun to get his fill.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ mess,” he said, voice rough, thumb lazily stroking your inner thigh. “And I ain’t even fucked you yet.”

A slow, wicked grin tugged at your lips. You bit down on your lower one, teasing yourself with the scrape of your teeth as you looked at him through heavy lashes. “Ain’t my fault you looked so hot defending my honor,” you shot back, voice breathy but teasing, the words making his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile.

Joel huffed a dark little laugh, shaking his head as he pressed another hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “You’re my wife,” he muttered, like it was the world's simplest, most obvious thing. His lips dragged higher, soft kisses turning hungrier as he worked his way up your body. “’ Course I would. No one talks about you like that. No one looks at you like that. You hear me?”

Each kiss scorched a new mark into your skin, his scruff rasping against sensitive flesh, until he reached your stomach. He nipped there, the sharp sting of teeth making you jolt, your breath hitching in your throat.

“And I’m gonna make damn sure everyone in Jackson knows you’re mine,” Joel promised, voice thick and possessive.

You smirked, your hand weaving into his hair again, tugging just enough to make him grunt against your skin. “Gonna make me a mama, Joel?” you murmured, eyes locked on his.

The words seemed to snap something in him.

His pupils blew wide, his nostrils flaring as his hand slid up to palm your still-quivering belly, rough fingers splaying possessively. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and the hunger in his eyes made your pulse spike.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growled, dragging his lips up your body, stopping just below your breast, his breath hot against your skin. “Gonna fill you up, get you nice and round. Put a baby in you so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind you’re mine.”

You whimpered, your hips canting toward him, need flaring bright and sharp in your gut.

Joel smirked against your skin, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “Bet you’d look so fuckin’ pretty all swollen with my baby. Takin’ me so good every night, beggin’ for it.”

“Then do it,” you whispered, shivering under his touch, a throaty little plea.

He lifted his head, his mouth crashing into yours, tasting of whiskey and you, his hands already pushing your top higher, moving to claim every inch of you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Joel rasped, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as he positioned himself between your thighs. “I’m gonna fuck a baby in you.”

Joel didn’t waste another second.

His eyes dragged over your body, hungry and wild, and when he settled between your thighs, his cock heavy and flushed in his hand, you swore you could feel your pulse in every inch of your skin.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, look at you,” he rasped, fisting himself as he lined up with your slick entrance, the fat head of his cock nudging at your folds. “Already so wet for me. Messy little thing.”

You whimpered, hips tilting up to meet him, your fingers digging into his arms, desperate for more.

“Beg for it, mama,” Joel gritted, his voice rough. He leaned down, teeth catching your earlobe. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Joel,” you gasped, head falling back as your body ached for him. “Please. Need you inside me. Need you to fuck me. Fill me up—give me your baby.”

A deep, wrecked sound tore from his throat — half a growl, half a groan — and then he was pushing into you in one hard, slow thrust, sinking deep until his hips met yours. The stretch burned, your walls clenching around him.

“Goddamn,” Joel grunted, head dropping to your shoulder as he bottomed out. “Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. Feels like heaven.”

You could barely breathe, could only cling to him as he set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with desperate, brutal intent. The couch creaked beneath you, every slap of skin against skin loud in the otherwise silent house.

His mouth was everywhere — your neck, collarbone, and jaw underside. He muttered filth into your skin between ragged breaths, every word fanning the fire already consuming you.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he growled, his hand sliding to your belly, pressing down just enough to feel the bulge of him moving inside you. “Put a baby right here. Get you so fuckin’ full you’ll be beggin’ me for more.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you sobbed, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming, your nails raking down his back.

He grunted, his thrusts somehow rougher, deeper. “That’s it, mama. Take it. You were made for this — for me. Always knew you’d look so goddamn pretty carrying my kid.”

The word mama on his lips sent a shockwave through you, your whole body reacting with pleasure. Heat coiled low in your belly, a deep, needy ache blooming, the edge of your orgasm creeping back up so fast it made your head spin.

You barely recognized your voice — breathless, wrecked, laced with a teasing, desperate kind of heat. “Wanna give you a baby,” you whispered, your nails raking down his sweat-slick back, hips arching up to meet every savage thrust.

Joel let out a sound that was half growl, half moan, like the words cracked something inside him wide open. His hips stuttered for a heartbeat before slamming into you even harder.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice thick and ragged, his mouth dragging along your jaw. “Say it again, darlin’.”

You gasped when he hit that perfect spot, the pleasure stealing your breath.

“Wanna give you a baby, Joel,” you choked out, fingers gripping his hair, pulling him down until his forehead pressed to yours.

The snarl he made against your lips was pure filth, his pace turning brutal, desperate.

“Yeah, you do,” Joel rasped, his voice rough with tenderness and possessive heat. “Gonna knock you up, fill this pretty pussy ‘til it takes. Get you nice and round, let everyone see what I fuckin’ did to you.”

Your body broke again, pleasure slamming into you like a wave, your moan spilling into his mouth as you came, clenching around him so tight it dragged a loud, broken curse from his throat.

Joel’s hips jerked, his cock twitching deep inside you as he followed, coming with a low, possessive growl. “Mine. All fuckin’ mine, mama.”

And the way he kept moving, soft, shallow thrusts as his come spilled inside you, made your head swim, the aftershocks rippling through both of you.

“Gonna fill you up again in a minute,” Joel murmured, his lips brushing against yours, his breath hot and uneven. “Ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you’re carryin’ my baby.”

You shivered, a giddy, breathless laugh escaping you as you kissed him, your heart pounding against his.

Joel groaned against your lips, the sound deep and wrecked, his tongue slipping into your mouth like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hips gave a sharp, involuntary thrust, and you felt it, that familiar, liquid heat spilling deep inside you as his cock twitched inside your still-clenching walls.

A dark, possessive noise tore from his throat, his hands gripping your thighs so hard you knew there’d be bruises come morning. The weight of him, the heat, the lingering pulse of his release made your whole body tighten in response, another soft, needy whimper escaping your lips.

You bit his bottom lip, just enough to make him grunt, a wicked little smirk curling your mouth as you tugged before letting go.

“Can feel you,” you whispered, your voice breathless and teasing, your thumb brushing his jaw. “Fillin’ me up again, handsome.”

Joel’s gaze darkened, his breath hitching as his hand slid possessively over your belly, pressing his palm flat against it like he could already feel something growing inside you.

“Can’t fuckin’ help it,” he said, his voice a gravelly rasp, kissing you again, slower but no less desperate. “This pussy’s too good, sweetheart. So goddamn tight, squeezin’ me like you’re tryin’ to keep every drop.”

Your body shivered at his words, arousal flaring sharp and hot all over again.

Joel groaned when he felt the way your walls fluttered around him, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah… you like that, huh?” he murmured, teeth scraping along your jaw. “Bet I could make you come again just like this, keep you stuffed full ‘til you can’t even think straight.”

The way he said it — low, tender, filthy — made your pulse stutter, your hips instinctively rocking against him despite the oversensitivity.

His hand slid between you, two fingers teasing your swollen, soaked clit with slow, lazy circles.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his voice thick with hunger and rough affection. “One more for me. Let’s see how much more this pretty pussy can take.”

You moaned his name as Joel rocked his hips in slow, deep thrusts. Each one dragged along oversensitive nerves, the thick slide of him inside you sending heat curling low in your belly, sharp and insistent. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your body trembling, every lazy grind pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yeah, that’s it, mama,” Joel rasped against your ear, his voice rough and tender. “Feel that? Still so full for me.”

The tension in your belly coiled tight, your walls fluttering around him, and then it hit — your orgasm cresting sharp and hot, pleasure tearing through you in thick, rolling waves. You cried out his name again, your body clenching down around his cock, slick flooding around him as you came hard.

Joel groaned low, his hips giving a final, deep push before he stilled, buried to the hilt, savoring every pulse of you around him. His head dropped to your shoulder, sweat-slick skin sticking to yours, his breath hot and uneven against your neck.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

He pulled out slowly, and you both let out soft, wrecked sounds at the wet, filthy slide of it. A warm, sticky mix of your arousal and his seed spilled out of you, slicking your thighs.

Joel watched it, pupils blown, a dark, possessive hunger flickering across his face. Without a word, he slid his fingers through the mess, gathering it up, and then eased two of them back inside you, pushing it deep.

“Not wastin’ a fuckin’ drop,” he murmured, voice a gravelly promise, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as his fingers worked it back in. “This’s all mine, darlin’. You hear me? Every last bit of it.”

Your breath caught, a whimper escaping you at the stretch and the possessive tenderness in his touch.

“Gonna keep you nice and full,” Joel went on, his voice softer now, fingers dragging slowly inside you, his other hand splaying over your belly again. “Get you nice and round for me.”

Your body shuddered, another wave of heat crashing through you at his words.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your lips brushing his. “All yours, Joel.”

Joel stretched out on top of you, his head resting against your chest. Both of you were too wrecked and sated to care about the mess clinging to your skin or the sticky heat between your bodies. His fingers lazily traced circles along your hip, his breathing evening out against your skin as the frantic pulse of earlier settled into something warm and steady.

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way you knew he liked. He released a low, contented sound — part sigh, part rumble — and pressed a soft, unhurried kiss above your heart.

Eventually, Joel shifted, lifting his head to meet your gaze. His thumb brushed across your cheekbone, the rough pad of it catching on your skin. “C’mere,” he said, voice still thick and gravelly from the aftermath.

He helped you sit up, wincing a little as he did, and you both chuckled softly at yourselves — sticky, sweaty, and spent.

Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch careful and tender. He murmured soft apologies every time you flinched from oversensitivity.

When he was done, he leaned down, kissed your forehead, and scooped you into his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world. You nuzzled into his neck, your body limp with exhaustion, your heart still pounding slowly and content beneath your ribs.

“You good, darlin’?” he asked quietly, kissing your temple as he carried you upstairs.

“Mmm,” you hummed, too tired to say much else but letting your lips brush his throat in answer.

You both stripped off what little remained of your clothes in the bathroom. The shower was quick and lazy — more leaning against one another than washing — the warm water washing away the sweat and mess while Joel kept his hand on you, steadying you when your knees went weak from pure exhaustion.

Afterward, you both climbed into bed, skin still damp, limbs tangled beneath the worn quilt. Joel pulled you close, your head tucked under his chin, one big hand spread over your belly in a possessive, tender gesture.

The night was quiet around you. The only sounds were the faint chirp of crickets outside and the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“Love you,” Joel murmured against your hair, voice already thick with sleep.

You smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to his chest. “Love you too.”

Sleep took you both not long after — warm, sated, and wrapped up in each other like you never wanted to let go.

The next morning, Joel padded downstairs barefoot, the house quiet except for the creak of the old floorboards under his weight. The scent of sex and sweat still lingered faintly in the air, clinging to the room like a memory.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, still feeling the ache in his muscles, a hazy mix of satisfaction and guilt gnawing at him. Hope I didn’t wear her out too bad , he thought, glancing toward the stairs. You’d been so boneless, half-asleep when he kissed your temple and slipped out of bed, still curled up in the mess of sheets.

Joel filled the coffee pot and started a fresh brew before grabbing a rag to wipe down the couch. The dried streaks of sweat and arousal, and the faint outline of a handprint in the fogged glass of the side table, made his lips twitch in amusement.

“Goddamn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he scrubbed.

He’d just finished, the rag still in hand, when a sharp knock rattled the front door. Joel sighed, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he padded over.

The door swung open to reveal Tommy, leaning against the frame with a shit-eating grin and one brow raised.

“Oh good,” Tommy drawled, giving his brother a once-over. “You’re alive.”

Joel rubbed at his eyes with a groan, still half-asleep and in no mood for whatever this was. “Yeah, barely. Ain’t got patrol. Why the hell you here so damn early?”

Tommy didn’t answer immediately — just snorted and jerked his chin toward the house behind him. “Neighbors complainin’,” he said, barely holding back a grin. “Said they heard some woman screamin’ her head off last night. Thought maybe some infected made it past the gate.”

Joel’s stomach dropped, his eyes going wide. “ Shit, ” he muttered, heat creeping up the back of his neck.

Tommy’s grin split wide as he let out a bark of laughter. “Relax, big brother. I told ‘em it was just you bein’ an animal. Didn’t even blink.”

Joel scowled, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Goddamn it, Tommy.”

“Hey,” Tommy chuckled, backing down the steps, clearly enjoying himself. “Least now the whole town knows you ain’t as old and tired as you look.”

Joel shot him a glare, but there was no real heat. “Keep runnin’ your mouth and see if you don’t end up limpin’ on patrol tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Tommy quipped over his shoulder as he walked away.

Joel watched him go, shaking his head with amusement before shutting the door. He turned, grabbed two mugs off the shelf, and filled them with coffee, still grinning.

Carrying them upstairs, he peeked into the bedroom, finding you still curled under the covers, hair a wild, messy halo around your head.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, setting the mugs down and crawling back beside you, kissing your shoulder. “You know we got the whole town talkin’?”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Joel Miller, if you tell me what I think you’re about to…”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “Might’ve made ya scream a little too loud last night.”

You smacked his chest with a sleepy grin. “Next time, I’m gagging you.”

Joel’s laugh rumbled against your back as he wrapped you in his arms. “Fair’s fair, sweetheart. Fair’s fair.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal #joel x reader #tlou joel #joel tlou

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leclerc-hs · 1 month ago

Note

lando or charles eating the aphrodisiac chocolate with reader as a challenge to see who will give in first. im going feral thinking abt this…

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader word count: 2.3k warnings: SMUT, like hard fucking SMUT, dirty talk, bad language, lots of cursing, kinda mean lando!, hot hot hot, 18+, like serious fucking SMUT. unprotected sex, p in v…, overstimulation. breeding kink? author's note: ok so i got this request recently but was off of work today so i had a spare few hours to get this written. like I'm telling you this shit is straight up p*rn basically. anyways XOXO. COMMENT IF I SHOULD WRITE A CHARLES VERSION.... ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

It started as a joke.

A stupid dare over a few drinks, a stolen box of expensive chocolates laced with some so-called “harmless aphrodisiac”. And whoever begged to fuck first, lost. Simple.

“Bet you’d crack first,” You teased, waving a piece in Lando’s direction.

He snorted, cocky. “You? Lasting longer than me? No shot.”

“You scared?”

And that was how you both ended up stretched across the mattress of his bedroom, city lights glittering through the dark windows. A half-empty box of chocolates between you.

Popping pieces of chocolate like it’s just a normal Friday night. Like it wasn’t burning under your skin.

The first twenty minutes were easy.

He was lounging against the headboard, legs spread, still pretending to be cool. But you saw all the signs. The twitches. And now he was hunched over, sweat forming on his forehead, cock bulging.

It hit slow, like a boiling heat swirling in your belly, licking along your veins.

Minutes passed.

He was now stretched out across the mattress, hoodie pulled over his head with one arm and tossed aside.

“I’m fine,” you say. Calm and smug. Licking a part of the melted chocolate on your fingertip while you stared at him. “Starting to think it’s not that strong.”

Lando doesn’t reply.

He’s sitting opposite of you. Legs spread wide, forearms on his thighs, glaring.

Like he know’s just how fucked he is.

Like he’s trying to hard to not show it. Not to let you see how badly his cock is fucking aching and leaking inside of his sweats.

But the bulge is obvious.

“What the fuck was in that chocolate?”

You smile. “Just a little something to make you honest.”

“Honest?” His voice cracks. “Baby, I’m seconds away from fucking the mattress.”

His pupils are blown wide, breathing shallow. And you just smile.

“Aw,” you say. Mocking, tilting your head. “Poor baby. Getting hard already?”

“Shut the fuck up,” His voice is rough. Hoarse.

“Ohhh,” you mutter. “Is Lando gonna lose the game finally?”

He shifts, just slightly, not much. Just a fraction. But it must be too much because a soft, broken sound slips past his lips. Like a whimper.

And you freeze.

His eyes snap shut. One fist in his hair, yanks. The other drops to his thigh, squeezing.

You lean back, slow and taunting, stretching your arms over your head, the hem of your shirt lifting up just enough to flash the skin of your stomach.

“You’re fucking evil,” Lando rasps. Words dripping like venom. “Sitting there, all wet and fucking needy, pretending you don’t wanna get fuckin’ ruined.”

His hand moved, slow, slipping down his stomach, fingering the waistband of his sweats.

And you watch, breathless, as he shoves his hand under the fabric, grabbing his cock with a loud groan.

“I’m fucking aching, baby.” He hisses, squeezing himself, eyes flutter closed. “Hard as fuck. Dying. And you’re just sitting there, teasing, like a little slut who doesn’t know what she’s asking for.”

You swallow, whole body throbbing at the violence in his voice.

“Go ahead,” you mutter. “Touch yourself.”

He opens his eyes. Dark. Wild.

“Fuck you.” He breathes. “Not touching myself when you’re right fucking there. Perfect fuckin’ pussy’s mine.”

He shoves his sweats down. Just enough to free himself. His cock is thick, red, and leaking.

You whimper. Unintentionally.

And he grins. Menacingly. Mean.

“You’re drooling, pretty girl.” He taunts. “Want it that bad, hm?”

He fists himself roughly, dragging his hand up his length, smearing his precum down the shaft, a loud groan pushing past his lips.

“Bet you’re soaking that little pussy right now,” he jerks himself slowly, torturing. “Bet you’re throbbing and fuckin’ clenching around nothing, wishing my cock was shoved up there.”

Your thighs press shut. The throbbing between them aching. Burning you.

He laughs.

“Just look at you,” He gasps. “Fuckin needy. Bet you’d ride my cock without a second thought if I told you to.”

You shift forward, like a predator, “I would.” You whisper. “Sit down on you and ride you until you were fuckin’ crying.”

His whole body shudders.

“Fuck,” his head tips back, eyes squeezed shut as he grinds his hips into his own hand. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You crawl forward, until you were between his legs, looking up at him, inches from his leaking cock.

And he was shaking now. Hands fisting at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or keep going.

You tilt your head, innocently.

“Beg for it.”

And he chokes on a moan. Lips pressed tight together.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby.” He frowns. “Y’want me to fucking beg?”

You smile. Nod.

His eyes drag down you, breathing so hard his chest is visibly rising and falling.

“Please,” his voice is wrecked. “Please let me fuck you. Please, baby…” he’s fidgeting now. “Need to be inside of you. Need that tight pussy squeezing’ me, fuck,..please”

You lean closer, letting your breath hit the tip of his cock without touching him.

And he fucking whimpers.

“Need to split you open,” He pants. “Fuck you so stupid. Wanna feel you shaking around me. Fill you up and stuff you so full that you can’t walk tomorrow.”

You give him nothing. Just a light drag of your fingers crawling up his inner thigh. Barely touching him. Just enough to torment him.

And his entire body jerks.

“Stop fucking teasing.” Its a low, guttural snarl.

“Why?” You mutter. “Y’gonna come from just this? Just my hands on your leg?”

That does it.

He fucking snaps.

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back so you meet his eyes. And he looks fucking insane.

Flushed. Sweaty. Pupils blown. His chest is rising.

And his voice?

It’s fucking mean. Angry. Frustrated. Horny.

“Bet you think this is so funny.” He hisses, dragging you up from your knees, tossing you back onto the bed like you weigh nothing. “Y’think I’m just gonna sit here and let you fuck with me while my cock’s fucking leaking for you.”

You laugh, smug. And his control shatters.

“Shut the fuck up.”

He’s on you before you can blink, shoving your knees apart, tearing your shorts down with both hands.

He shoves your shirt high enough over your breasts, not taking it off. He just wants access.

And his eyes land right between your legs.

You’re fucking soaked. Slick and smeared all along your thighs. Pooling.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “Fuckin’ look at you.”

And then his eyes meet yours. Fucking furious.

“All that teasing and you’re this fucking wet?” He slaps your inner thigh, hard enough to make your hips jump. “Pussy’s been begging for me and you’re sitting there like you’re in control?”

He lines himself up. And shoves the tip in. Just enough to feel your tight, hot cunt suck him in.

You gasp, arching your back into him. And he groans.

“Feel that? Feel how fucking hard I am for you?”

He thrusts even deeper, still not all the way in. Just a little bit more.

“You don’t get to tease me and then not take it,” He grunts. “Gonna fuck you until this slutty little cunt’s dripping with my cum.”

You moan. Loud. But he grabs your chin. Fingers gripping your jaw so tight that you can’t look away even if you tried.

“Uh, uh. Don’t you dare come yet.”

He pulls out. Just a little bit. Still grinding into you. “Wanna feel you clench on me when I’m buried in.”

And then he slams all the way in. One harsh thrust that fucking knocks the air out of your lungs.

You cry out. Hands fisting at the sheets. Legs snapping shut around his hips immediately.

He groans. It’s broken and raw.

“Fuck…there it is. That tight little pussy choking me.”

He starts moving. Hard. Dragging his cock in and out with a harsh force. Like he’s punishing you.

The mattress moves under you, the headboard hitting the wall.

And his words. They keep coming.

“Gonna fuckin’ breed you baby. Shove it so fuckin’ deep you’ll be leaking with me for days.”

“Made for me. Bet no one will ever fuck you this deep.”

“Y’like when I’m mean, huh? Like when I lose it for you?”

And you can’t even breathe. Cant answer. Can only take his cock as he fucks you deep into the mattress.

“Fuckin’ knew you’d play dirty.” He pants. “And I warned…fucking warned you what would happen.”

And then his hand is trailing down, thumb pressing fast, tiny circles to your clit.

You yell.

“Yeah, go on.” He says. “Soak my cock. Show me who fucking wins now.”

And you break. Coming hard. Your body arches off the bed, walls squeezing him so tight he only thrusts a few more times before he spills into you.

He keeps thrusting through it, slower, like he can’t stop.

He collapses on top of you. “What the fuck are you doing to me, baby?”

He’s still inside of you. Still thick. Twitching. And still so fucking hard.

Your body is limp under him, thighs trembling with need.

But Lando doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull out. Just stayed buried inside of you, cock so deep inside of you that you swear you can feel it throbbing.

And then you flinch because he’s moving again. It’s slow, just a small roll of his hips.

“Lan,” He grabs your jaw.

“No.” He breathes. “You don’t get to say my name like that after what you just pulled.”

Your eyes are glassy.

“Wanted to see me lose it, yeah? Wanted to see what’d I do?” His hips roll deeper, harder. And you whimper.

Pussy swollen, sensitive, full with his cum, and he’s grinding into you like he’s only just started.

“Well here you go,” He hisses. “You asked for this.”

He grabs both of your wrists, pins them above your head with one hand, while the other slips down and wraps around your throat.

“You’re gonna take every fucking thrust. Every drop.”

And he’s fucking you again. Cock still so hard that it feels unnatural.

Your cunt pulses around him. Soaked and clenching like you’re about to come again.

“Look at you,” he pants. “Still so fucking tight after being filled. Still squeezing me like you don’t want me to pull out.”

He’s thrusting harder, his hips slapping into you.

“Gonna stuff you full again,” His teeth trail your neck. “Gonna fuck you til you can’t say a fucking word.”

And you can’t. You’re babbling. Sobs. Moans. Gasps. And he doesn’t stop. His hand reaches down between your legs again, reaching for your puffy clit.

And you yell. “No..no, Lan!”

“Oh, now you wanna be shy?” He mocks, nibbling at your throat. “Now you wanna act like its too much?”

He pinches your clit. You cry out.

“Teasin’ me an hour ago. Thighs clenched like a little whore.”

He trails up your neck with his tongue. “You don’t get to quit now.”

And then he’s fucking you faster, his fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit and your body shatters.

You yell, spasming so hard around his cock like it’s milking him.

He groans loud. Spills inside of you for a second time, relentlessly grinding into you.

And even then, he still doesn’t pull out.

He slumps over you, panting and drenched in sweat.

But you feel it. The way his cock still doesn’t soften.

He drags a hand over his face, staring down at you.

Grinning.

You don’t even know what time it is anymore. Sweat is dry on your skin. Slick smeared across your thighs.

The bed is fucking soaked. Sweat, cum, saliva, you. And your legs are still twitching from the last orgasm.

And Lando’s still inside of you. Still throbbing.

And he’s looking at you now. Really looking.

His hand cups underneath your jaw, thumb brushing your skin gently. “You’re so fucking pretty when you cry.” He mutters. He says it like he can’t believe you’re here. That you’re his.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down, pressing warm kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then the spot beneath your ear.

And he rocks his hips forward again…it’s slow, deep, grinding into your overstimulated cunt with a soft groan.

You whimper but he presses his thumb to your lips. Shushes you.

“Shh, I know, baby,” He whispers. “I know.”

But he doesn’t stop. Keeps moving like he needs to be inside of you.

“Make me fucking crazy.” He breathes. “Acting all innocent, playing games.”

He kisses you. Slow. Mouth lingering against yours as his hand slips under your thigh, lifting your leg over his hip as he pushes into you deeper.

And when he moans into your mouth, you feel yourself clench around him.

“I was going to fuck you angry again,” he says. “Wanted to keep ruining you.”

He kisses you again, breath shuddering against your skin. “But you look to fuckin’ sweet like this. Messy and fucked under me.”

You gasp when his cock nudges that spot just right in your belly as he flips you over, putting you on top of him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “You can take it.”

And then he kisses your shoulder. “So good for me.” He groans. “So fucking good for me.”

You moan. It’s shake and desperate, and you start pushing yourself into him a little faster. Thighs burning, body aching.

“There you go,” He’s groaning. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…”

You dig your nails into his shoulder and he loves it. “I wanna come inside you again.” He’s panting. “Need to fill you up.”

And you’re sobbing. Nodding against him.

“Tell me it’s mine,” He whispers. “All of it. This pussy. These moans. This entire fucking body and soul.”

You breathe, riding him faster. “It’s yours.”

He kisses you again, open mouthed and deep, shoving his tongue in your mouth. He thrusts up against you and you shatter on top of him. Again.

Body convulsing, as he comes with a low broken fuck while spilling inside of you again.

You collapse on him. And he just holds you there.

Shaking. Sweaty. Covered.

He kisses your hair, whispering.

“Yeah, you won.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris angst #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando x y/n #lando x you #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #f1 x you #f1 imagines

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mwphisto · 1 month ago

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Simple things that turn LnDs men on~

Including: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb x reader. Reader is implied female but most can be interpreted however you please!

Warning, this post is 18+! Some lighter smut since my brain cannot handle anything else atm (I’m graduating university in 3 weeks)

Shifting banner from @cafekitsune <3

Xavier

Cuddling with you, seeing you sleepy and warm and soft in his embrace, under his blankets, in his bed. He can’t help it, you’re just so perfect, so sweet in this state. His hands can’t help but wander, sliding over your soft tummy, your thighs, eventually landing to cup your chest. His nose nuzzles into the crown of your head, inhaling your shampoo, and the next thing he knows? His hips are swiveling softly into the plush of your ass.

When you get mad. He’s not capable of explaining why his body has the reaction it does. Other than the plain statement of “you’re hot when you’re mad.” Which isn’t a lie, Xavier finds you so hot when you’re angry. Seeing you so passionate about something that it gets your blood boiling? He’s thinking of ways to get you to cool down. How easily he could switch the downward tilt of your brows into something far more… relaxed… pleased… blissed out…

Sitting on his lap is a definite way to get his attention. Xavier can get a bit lost in his hobbies, whether it be reading or scrolling articles on his phone. Sometimes the call of his name doesn’t snap him out of his trance. But you know what does? Settling your pretty self on his muscular legs, a smile on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks and guiding him up towards your glittery eyes. The weight of you on him, the warmth, the surprise of his train of thought being interrupted, all of it has his heart rate spiking. Until all he can see, hear, and feel is you.

Rafayel

Matching his energy can totally catch the artist off guard — the absolute best way. To be blunt, you’re able to match his freak so well he can’t help but get turned on at how in sync the two of you are. His beautiful bride, perfect in every way. When you two are so effortlessly on the same page, he finds himself struggling to keep his composure. Luckily for him, you always seem to know what he’s thinking without him so much as saying a word.

Willingly being his muse just might send Raf into a coma. Seeing you sprawled over his couch, barely dressed so he can do some anatomy sketches has him shifting uncomfortably on his stool. Your sweet smile, delicate and skilled hands, the way you whisper his name while he scribbles on his paper with a rosy blush on his cheeks. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful it drives him insane.

Noticing the smallest details about him will get his head spinning. Rafayel harbors a lot of mixed emotions regarding his past and he loves you wholeheartedly but sometimes he just can’t… let go. When you take the time to get to know him — or as much as he’s willing to give you — and you actually pick up on things that go unsaid? His head is spinning, his heart pounding, the seal on his chest burning brightly. He wants to devote himself to you, it’s just part of his nature at this point. Eventually, he’ll work through it all and give into what he needs most…

Zayne

Your laughter sends his heart into a nose dive. He’s never been one for jokes, his dry humor often carrying him through. But when he says something that genuinely has you belly laughing, his name a sweet melody on your lips as you try and contain your giggles? He’s shifting his legs to hide the growing tension between his legs. You look at him with such adoration, so sweet and delicate, he has to reign himself in before frost creeps up his neck.

Giving him your full attention when he begins to ramble about nerdy medical things definitely causes the surgeon to lose his train of thought. You may not understand the scientific terms he’s using, and you may feel a bit bad when he has to explain them again with simpler terminology, but your attention is undivided regardless. And Zayne notices, of course he does. His heart is pounding as he rattles off all of his fascinations — such as new research he’s compiled about neonatal heart defects. You’re so engaged with him, nodding along and even asking him some questions. He’s fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. After a long day you’re so willing to listen to him ramble on about his research? He’s going to marry you, and fuck you senseless for being such a good girl.

Taking care of him, such as shaving his face or washing his hair will have Zayne be putty in your hands. He does so much for others, puts so much care and effort into making their lives better. It’s only right that you step up and do the same for Dr. Zayne. Though, bless him, he didn’t expect you to straddle his lap and shave him with a straight razor. Didn’t expect to be engulfed by the sent of your perfume as you settle your weight on his legs and glide the razor over his skin. It’s intimate, the proximity of your bodies is close enough to generate some warmth. He’ll lose it before you’re able finish one side of his unshaven cheek.

Sylus

Skinship with the leader of Onychinus is pretty special. Sylus savors every second of it, given that your hands rarely touch him outside of holding his waist when on his bike. The feeling of your fingers on his cheeks, your legs caging his as you sit together on the couch, your fingers intertwining with his. He’s a goner, so touch starved it’s nearly pitiful. He’s always been a man of composure, but god dammit you’re just so soft compared to him. You’re so warm and smell so good and you’re just so… you’re so sparing with your touches. As if you’re hesitant, not sure if he’d want your hands on him in the first place. Drives him so insane, he craves to hold you close but doesn’t want to push you before you’re ready.

Seeing you wear clothes he picked out for you has Sylus adjusting his collar and inhaling deep through his nose. His mark is on you, even if it’s not on your skin, you’re dressed so beautifully. You match him, compliment him perfectly. You look so breathtaking he has to mentally pat himself on the back for having such damn good taste. Seeing you feel yourself in what he’s picked does wonders for his already big ego. Seeing you twirl and smile as you admire yourself in the dress, the skirt, the pants, the shirt, whatever he’s picked out for you for the occasion. It gives him a sense of pride, like he’s done good, and it’s a genuine plus that you look so goddamn perfect in every outfit.

Kissing his knuckles nearly sends him over the edge one night. You had finished cleaning some wounds while his evol recharged and sealed the deal with a gingerly placed kiss on his battered knuckles. Sylus nearly sees stars because of it, such an overwhelming surge of possessiveness and heat flooding his weary veins that he nearly pops a hard-on then and there on the floor.

Caleb

Stealing his clothing is something you’ve always done. Something about it being comfier, softer, smelling like him. God he doesn’t even care for the reason, he just knows you look so divine in his shirt, his boxers, his hoodie. So cute and small compared to him, marked as his for anyone who has the gracious opportunity to see you in such a state. He guesses it’s only fair you steal his clothes, since he has a small — but growing — collection of your panties—

Relying on him 100% would put Caleb on cloud nine. Giving up your tough guy act and simply putting all of your needs on him would have him struggling to keep his composure long enough to actually see the tasks through. Could be something as simple as asking him to cut up some fruit for you, could be as complicated as giving your bike a tuneup. Regardless, Caleb is blissed out and glossy-eyed as he shows his love for you in his favorite fashion.

Slipping into his bed in the middle of the night has been something you’ve done since childhood. Bad dream, can’t sleep, anxious or stressed, Caleb’s arms have always been your biggest comfort. He waits for it, waits for the creak of his door and your quiet whisper of permission. He craves the dip of his mattress, the weight and warmth of your body next to his under his sheets. He has to be mindful of where his hips land on you, purely out of fear that you might feel something you’re not supposed to just yet.

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sv3t1ana · 1 month ago

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SYNOPSIS ᯓ Gojo doesn't usually fuck his clients. This was supposed to be a normal massage. But with hands like that and a cock to match... "professional" was never on the table.

PAIRING ᯓ Masseur!Gojo x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ᯓ smut MDNI, happy ending massage!, oral (f receiving), size kink?, PIV, spanking, biting/marking, dirty talk, possessiveness if you squint!

WORD COUNT ᯓ 5.3k

You’d driven past the place at least a hundred times.

It’s a stupidly sleek little building tucked perfectly between a Pilates studio and one of those overpriced juice bars. Like the kind with an obnoxiously chic and overly sensual neon sign that says TOUCH. White letters on smoked glass, all minimalist and judgy and expensive.

Every time you passed it you’d scoff.

“They probably charge three hundred fucking dollars just to rub your back and judge your pores.”

You’d even spat out an insult once like the building itself would crumble under the weight of your words, hitting the gas on your way home from work. Said it with the kind of righteous confidence that only comes from truly believing you’d never be that kind of girl. The kind who just… lets someone touch them like that. Oil-slicked and half-naked, moaning on some fake leather table while a stranger pretends it’s “therapeutic.”

Weird, isn’t it?

Definitely not for you.

And yet, here you are.

Saturday morning. Pillow hair, soul cracked like a boiled egg, lying in bed with your phone half on your face as you text your best friend in a fugue state,

you ever feel like your spine is just floating? help

You expected a “same.”

get a massage. i’m serious.

You snort. Riiight, a massage, huh?

You stare at the screen, eyes locked to the message like if you stared long enough it’d dial itself.

No amount of sarcasm or dignity can fix the way your shoulders feel like cement. Or the way you haven’t slept properly in weeks. Or the way your boss sent a “quick favor” email at precisely 11:48 PM last night, which you answered because your spine is already jelly and your will to live has already been transferred to a spreadsheet.

So… yeah.

Maybe you are that girl.

The bell attached to the door jingled as you step into the spa, and this is where you immediately felt out of place. The air smelled like eucalyptus and tears of the rich. The lighting was soft, flutey music passing through one ear and out the other, the woman at reception desk with the kind of smooth and poreless skin someone had when they bathed in rosewater.

You step up, feigning confidence like you hadn’t just Googled “what happens at a massage” just an hour ago.

“Hi, uh… I’d like to get a massage?”

She looked up from her computer with a smile too serene to be trusted. “Of course, what kind were you thinking? We offer Swedish, Thai, deep tissue, shiatsu, hot stone, aromatherapy-”

You nod slowly, brain buffering like YouTube trying to stream Paul vs. Tyson. Swedish? Do you get buttered up and rolled around like an IKEA meatball? You can’t ask that. You’d already committed the biggest crime by pretending you belonged here.

“Deep tissue,” you said, like you knew what the hell that meant.

She gave you a polite nod, tapping away on her keyboard. “Great choice. One of our more intense options. How long would you like the session? Sixty or ninety minutes?”

“Um… sixty’s good,” which is actually code for: I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m more scared of farting if you press too hard on my spine.

“Perfect,” she chirped. “The massage therapist will discuss pricing with you. You can take a seat, they’ll call you back shortly.”

You stepped aside, sitting on the impossibly soft couch in a sack of second-guessing. Of course there was a candle named something you can’t pronounce. And of course there’s a small framed sign on the coffee table reading: Relaxation is a journey, not a destination.

Just as you begin contemplating how to fake an emergency bolt, an intrusive thought crossing your mind to stand up and scream that you had a fucking bomb, a calm voice called your name.

You stood up, maybe way too quickly, meeting the eyes of a woman smiling at you with a clipboard in hand.

Thank god. A woman. The anxiety deflated from your shoulders. You didn’t really consider the possibility of a male masseuse until now, but the idea of some beefcake oiled up and kneading your thigh was not something you emotionally prepared for.

“This way,” she gestured for you to follow her down a hallway lined with softly glowing wall sconces and the sound of babbling water. You’d never felt so simultaneously underdressed and overscheduled.

She opened a door and motioned you inside. “You can undress to your comfort level and lie down under the towel, face down. I’ll let your massage therapist know you’re ready.”

“Towel?” you echo, glancing around. On the table sat a singular, small, pathetic white towel. It looked like something you’d pat a cat dry with, and you didn’t know if you expected a beach towel or a blanket.

Still, you nodded like a champ.

There you stood, alone after she exited and shut the door behind her. Unsure of how much was too much as you undressed. Were you supposed to keep your underwear on? Take it off? Would that be weird? Shit, what was the social etiquette here? It felt wrong to Google it, like the masseuse would walk in on you hunched over your phone naked like a caveman discovering the world wide web for the first time.

Eventually, you compromised by only keeping your underwear on and sliding under the towel, if you can even call it that. It barely covered your ass, and if you breathed wrong a cheek was gonna peek.

You lie face down, pressing your face into the weird little donut hole in the massage table. Every attempt at relaxation was a fail, your body as stiff as a mannequin.

The door creaked open, a voice drifted through the air all too low and smooth, way too sexy for this situation.

“Good evening,” he said.

Wait.

Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait.

You lift your head just a fraction, seeing a tall man stepping into the dimly lit room. White uniform shirt rolled to the elbows. Forearms like Greek sculpture. Messy white hair. A face so hot you swore you could hear angels filing HR complaints. His eyes were icy, meeting yours and curved with a smile.

“I’ll be your masseur tonight,” he said. “Name’s Satoru. Just let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool,” you say, voice cracking.

He chuckled softly, washing his hands in the corner, the sound of running water far too sensual. You press your face back into the donut, trying not to internally implode.

You asked for this, your brain whispered.

You chose deep tissue, whatever that meant.

You hear the flick of a small bottle opening. Something shifts behind you, the scent of cedarwood and vanilla blooming through the room like a secret. A soft, wet sound followed, and then-

Drip.

Oil hit the small of your back first. Warm, silky. You twitched without meaning to.

“Sorry,” his voice came playful and low, like he wasn’t sorry at all. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, only letting out a small squeak of laughter.

Then came his hands.

Large, warm, firm. Gentle as they pressed into your shoulders, thumbs digging slow, practiced circles into the knots near your spine. You can’t help the exhale escaping your lips, something between a sigh and a sound you’d only make in bed.

“This your first massage?” he asks, and damn him. Even his voice sounded like a smirk.

You coughed. “That obvious?”

“Just a bit,” he teased, hands now kneading into the ridge between your neck and shoulder. “You’re stiff. Tense.”

You laugh nervously. “It’s just work stuff. Desk job.”

“Hm,” he hummed like he already knew. Like he could read it in your body the moment his hands touched you. “I’ll start at your shoulders and work my way down. We’ll see if we can get you loosened up.”

You made another strangled sound of agreement in response, biting your lip.

Every stroke of his palm dragged warm oil over your skin, spreading heat along your back, down your spine. The pads of his thumbs pressed into the muscles beside your shoulder blades, firm but slow. It wasn’t just good, but shamefully so. Soothing, deep. Every time his thumbs pressed in, you felt your breath catch in your throat.

Focus, you told yourself. This is a professional, he does this all the time. And you’re not special, just some towel-clad client on a table meant for meat tenderizing.

But gods, his hands.

They were confident, skilled, moving in ways like they had the heaven’s permission to touch you. Maybe they did, each stroke leaving your skin burning in its wake. Your hips shifted slightly. Not on purpose. Well, maybe it was on purpose. You hated yourself for it.

He hadn’t said anything for a while, the room quiet aside from the ambient spa music and your stupid heartbeat echoing in your ears, your heart trying to crawl its way out from your ribcage. You focused on the feeling, the press of his digits into your shoulder. On the long drag of his hands gliding down, down, oil-slick and hot against your spine.

Shit, your brain was melting.

You felt his hands move again, slower now, gliding at your middle back. You couldn’t help but wonder if the towel slipped, didn’t dare look. You just stayed still, very still, praying for dignity while also very much wishing he’d go lower. His thumbs pushed into the small of your back, just on either side of your spine, and you exhaled, loudly.

You immediately regretted it. But he didn’t say anything. Just chuckled softly, barely a sound, and pressed deeper.

Gojo had given thousands of massages before. Hell, he’d worked on celebrities, models, athletes, all kinds of bodies sculpted and polished and worshiped. But this one? You? You weren’t some glammed-up goddess or an over-confident regular. You were shy, uncertain, nervous in the sweetest way, biting your lip like it’d save your soul.

And when he asked what was hurting, where it ached, you’d mentioned work like it explained everything.

He knew exactly what you needed.

His thumbs dragged slow over the curve of your back. You shifted slightly under him, just the tiniest movement, but not from pain. From heat. From something much, much lower. Gojo felt it, the tremor running through your muscles like a secret. The towel was still clinging to your hips, just barely, and he let his hands dip lower, enough to brush the top curve of your ass to see if you’d flinch.

And you didn’t.

Fuck.

He was breaking rules. His own rules. He didn’t do this. Never had. Not once. Not even with the flirty clients or the ones that offered more.

But then again, none of them were you.

Your skin was warm beneath his palms, your breath hitched in a rhythm that wasn’t just relaxation. He could hear it, feel it. And when his fingers barely slipped under the hem of that towel, just to knead the tight muscle at the base of your spine, he felt you tense.

Not with fear, but want.

He pressed deeper, just enough to test. And he almost groaned aloud when your hips lifted. As if it was an accident. But he knew better.

He loved the way you were sensitive for him, dragging his thumbs along the edge of the towel, fingertips brushing your perceptive skin that made his cock twitch.

He was throbbing against the zipper of his pants. He needed to stop.

But he wasn’t going to stop.

“First session’s free, by the way,” he murmured, just above your ear, his salacious tone a blessing to your ears. “House special.”

You made another soft sound and Gojo had to bite his cheek just to stop a deep groan threatening its way out from his lungs.

You thought you were in the clear when his hands left your back. For a moment, you considered breathing again. But then-

“Gonna move to your legs now,” he said, voice smooth and casual. “Starting from your feet.”

You couldn’t find it in you to protest. Your feet. The one part of your body that rejected human contact like a toddler would broccoli.

You tensed as he lifted your foot gentle, resting your ankle against a bolster. You took this opportunity to look. And he looked way too comfortable, crouched near your calves, rolling his sleeves up even more, his forearms, fuck, the veins, and warming more oil in his hands.

The first touch was light, gliding his fingers over your heel, your arch-

You flinched.

“Oh?” he laughed, glancing up. “Ticklish?”

You wanted to crawl inside the nearest candle holder and die.

“Maybe a little,” you mumbled, voice muffled.

“Noted,” he chuckled. “I’ll be gentle.”

And if Gojo Satoru wasn’t a liar before, he was now.

Because his thumbs rolled firm circles into your arches, sliding up the curve of your foot, down each toe like he fucking knew. You twitched again when he hit that spot near the ball of your foot.

He didn’t even pretend not to notice.

“Aw, you’re trying not to laugh.” His voice was warm. “Cute.”

You exhaled like a balloon deflating, face hot. “You’re evil.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, slowly dragging his palm up your sole to your ankle. “That’s one way to thank me.”

He didn’t linger much longer there, probably for your dignity which was already on life support, before he moved up, kneading your calf in strong, slow strokes. His hands wrapped around the muscle with confident pressure, and oh, it felt good.

All thoughts of embarrassment evaporating the moment his thumbs began sliding up your calf, massaging deep into the tissue. His touch slowed as he moved higher, now smoothing hot oil into the back of your knee.

Then he moved to your other leg. Same path. Foot, ankle, calf. All familiar but different. Like he was trying to memorize you. And this time his hands went slower, savoring the goosebumps prickling your skin as his hands moved higher, thumbs digging deeper. And when he reached the back of your thigh, right where the towel barely covered, you felt it.

The hesitation. The pause. The line of professionalism being toed.

And then crossed.

His hands never stopped moving, but his thumbs dragged slower, brushing up the back of your thigh and letting his touch linger along the soft skin there. His touch was light, too light to be considered a deep tissue massage.

“Still doing okay?” he asked, voice low.

You could only nod.

“Good,” he murmured. “You’re very responsive.”

Was this normal massage talk?

No, it couldn’t be. But you didn’t dare respond, didn’t want to stop him, even as your breath hitched and thighs threatened to instinctively press together.

Gojo’s hands stayed high on your thighs. One thumb circled the outside of your thigh.

“You’ve got tension here too,” he remarked, and this time, it wasn’t professional at all.

Your hips jolted.

“Sensitive?” he asked, almost a whisper.

You wanted to say something, maybe yes, maybe God, please don’t stop, but all that came out was a hum, shaky as his fingers gripped your thigh tighter.

“Don’t worry,” his voice silk-soft and soaked in pure heat. “I’ll take care of it.”

You didn’t even know he shifted until his voice came too close to your ear, just a low murmur.

“I’m gonna remove the towel now. That okay?”

You’re too far gone, just nodding.

“Need you to say it for me,” his voice is gentle.

“Yes,” you swallow, voice barely above a whisper.

He grips the towel, slow as sin, dragging it off your spine and letting it peel off you like he’s unwrapping something expensive. His fingers graze, not enough to claim but just enough to tease. You’re face-down, so you don’t see it. But he’s squinting, biting back a groan, cock already stirring and probably dripping.

He oils up again, slick and warm, spreading his palms across your ass with expert precision.

“Just breathe. This’ll help with tension in your glutes.”

Glutes, he says it like a medical term. You almost believe he’s just being good at his job, except his hands are kneading deeper, practically stroking the plushy fat of your ass.

His hips subtly press against the table, trying to relieve the throb without making a sound. His jaw is slack, eyes hooded, and he’s already sweating. He’s circling your ass with the heel of his palm, eyed glued to were your thighs part ever-so-slightly, revealing the slightest sliver of wet lace. His mouth waters.

His thumbs brush the hem of your panties, it’s innocent at first. But then he does it again, lingering.

You can almost feel the air shift.

Something about the way he touches you makes your skin buzz. He hasn’t said anything… too off yet, but the drag of his fingers along your thighs, the brush against the edge of your panties, you’re beginning to think it’s not exactly on the menu at most spas.

“Gonna take these off too. Helps me reach deeper tissue,” his finger hooks just teasingly into the hem at your hips.

You know it’s a lie. It has to be. But you nod.

And again, he waits.

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you exhale, heartbeat in your ears.

Then he hooks only his thumbs into your panties, slow, like it’s a favor. You lift your hips slightly so he can pull them down, and he takes his time. His thumbs caress you as he drags them down to your knees, ankles, then off completely.

And now you’re bare. Naked. Exposed under his hands and eyes, no doubt dripping from tension and need alone.

The only sound in the room is the soft roll of incense smoke, faint music, and the slick shhhhhkkk of oil between his palms to start again, skin to skin.

He shifts, thumbs dipping lower and palms kneading the tops of your thighs. It’s almost too much, you want to move, clench your legs shut, but you don’t. You stay soft, pliant, open.

And he watches. Every flutter of your muscles. Every twitch. The faintest glisten where your thighs part.

This was no longer routine.

So wet already. You poor thing probably didn’t even mean to be.

He watches your hips shift when he gets close, the way your toes twitch as his thumbs drag sinfully along your inner thighs. It’s like you’re desperate and embarrassed all at once. And yet, you obeyed him. And he loved every second of it.

You’re so pure, so sweet, so filthy for him. Not a single complaint. No hesitation.

Glutes soft and flushed from the heat of his palms. Inner thighs slicked with oil. Breathing shallow and shaky. And his favorite part, your slit tucked between trembling legs, glistening with more than just oil.

He shifts again, subtly dragging his cock against the edge of the massage table. Hard, throbbing, and unforgiving.

“You’re responding really well,” he murmurs, the heel of his palms pushing into your inner thighs enough to part you only so he can see more.

And you’re going insane.

His hands on your thighs, voice in your ear. Every pass of his palms leaving your nerves sparking, and it’s taking everything in you not to freely moan when his knuckles drag just too close.

When your legs twitch again, of course he notices. ��Don’t worry. You’re doing great. Just let me take care of you.”

But then his sinful thumbs sweep higher. Still outside, not touching where you need him most. But close. So, so close. And you can’t help the gasp escaping you.

And that’s when he finally brushes his fingers along your folds, light, feather-soft, as if he’s checking something.

Your whole body jerks. His voice lowers a few octaves.

“You’re soaked.”

A beat of silence.

“Want me to keep going?”

Again, you nod.

“Words, sweetheart.

You swallow, face burning and contorting where it’s nestled in the headrest. “Yes… please.”

“Good girl,” his chuckle is low and so smug.

You’re so responsive for him, every time his fingers tease your slick little slit, your thighs tremble like they’re fighting not to squeeze shut.

You don’t even realize the slightest rock of your hips, silently begging for more like you’re chasing his fingers.

He palms your ass again, spreading you open as he traces a single digit up and down. Folds puffy and hot, dripping onto the table, clit twitching like it knows what’s coming.

“You said this was your first massage, right?” he says, dragging a single finger deeper between your folds. “But you’re begging for attention.”

Then his thumb gently presses against your clit, unmoving but giving you the pressure you oh so desperately needed.

“Think you might’ve been made for this.”

You can’t breathe, can’t think. All you know is his hands. The way they press into you, spreading your arousal and oil around as if it’s a divine ritual. The way his thumb circles your clit painstakingly slow, so patient.

You mewl, too far gone to be ashamed.

“Want the full package?” his question come velvet-smooth.

You blink, dazed. “…The what?”

His thumb pressed in just a little harder, your body tensing. “Y’know, the extra. Let me take care of everything.”

“Y-yeah…” your voice is barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

He smiles, the thick curl of anticipation mixing with the burning incense in the air, winding your spine as he murmurs your new nickname again:

“Good girl.”

It’s like this was always going to happen. Like he’s done this a hundred times before and you were just next in line, all dripping wet and none the wiser.

Then he’s palming you again, hands oiled with a fresh squirt as both hands slide over your skin. It’d be professional if it wasn’t for the way his thumbs spread you once again.

It’d be professional didn’t brush directly over your soaked folds, a low growl he lets out, low and restrained when he sees your cunt pulse for him.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, dragging two fingers through your slick.

Then he dips two fingers inside you, slow and filthy as he immediately curls them right into that soft spot between your ridges that has you gasping into the table padding.

“God, you’re tight. Gonna have to open you up first, yeah?”

It’s as if it’s still part of the massage.

He fucks you slow with his fingers, his free hand moving to move ‘round and ‘round against your clit with his thumb. And fuck, he’s too skilled. Every filthy, wet stroke of his fingers has you whimpering, any semblance of professionalism lost by the sound of your whispers.

“So responsive,” he mutters almost to himself. “You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?”

Then-

Smack.

Your body jolts, a sharp sting across your ass, the crack echoing through the room.

“Mm,” he hums, smoothing the reddened spot of his handprint like he’s checking the quality of his own work. “Pretty thing makes such pretty sounds.”

Another smack. You gasp.

“Flip over for me.”

His tone is easy, casual like he’s asking you to flip a page in a magazine. Your legs move before you, body fully glistening with oil and anticipation.

His face looks almost desperate. Sweat at his temples, white lashes fluttering over hooded eyes at burn. His lips are parted, flushed, bitten like he's been holding back from devouring you whole.

He's no longer the calm masseur from before, but a man on the edge of losing it.

Every inch of him thrumming with want, you can see it in the way his jaw flexes, the slight tremble in his fingers at his sides. His gaze drops between your legs, staying there like he's starving.

He wants this, wants you just as badly. Maybe worse.

And he sees you. Laid out like an offering, tits soft and heaving, thighs glistening, cunt spread and twitching, begging for his attention.

He lets out a low, heavy breath. “Fuck. Look at you.”

Then his hands are tracing down your thighs, hooking under your knees just to bring them to your chest.

And he goes in, no teasing or warning, just his hands spreading you wide, full mouth-to-pussy action.

His tongue slides over your clit like he’s starving. Moaning into you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. It’s filthy, loud, wet, feral.

He laps at you like he wants to crawl into your skin and live there. His lips lock around your clit, tongue flicking fast and relentless, fingers digging into you.

Your hips buck instinctively. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers clutching his silvery strands as your legs twitch, toes curl.

He loves it. The desperate little grind of your hips, the wrecked moan slipping from your throat, the way you push his face impossibly deeper.

So he doubles down, dragging his tongue lower and fucking it into your hole with lewd precision, then pulls back just to suck at your clit like it’ll grant him immortality.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, lost in a daze himself. “Sweet little thing, gonna cum all over my mouth, huh? So fucking wet. Bet you’ve been thinking about this.”

He flattens his tongue, grinding it against your clit, and you cry out, entire body jerking, thighs clenching around his head. But he doesn’t stop, if anything only groans, grinding his hips into the table like he’s getting off just on your taste.

You’re soaked. Senseless. A carnal desire to soak his face in your arousal.

And when you gasp his name, fingers tugging at his locks, body trembling-

“That’s it,” he purrs. “Cum for me, baby.”

You shatter. Completely. Fully. Back arching from the table, breath punched from your lungs, cunt clenching so hard around nothing it’s fucking cruel. He just stays there, tongue flicking, dragging out every last pulse of your orgasm until your legs go numb.

Your thighs are trembling around him, your cunt a swollen, slick mess, still twitching with aftershocks. You’re still moaning, fucked-out and blissed as he presses kisses to your inner thigh.

Fuck. He thinks you look perfect like this. Made to be ruined for him.

And he’s done being patient.

So he stands, unzipping his pants. His cock springs free, red, leaking, painfully hard. And shit, he’s big. A slight upward curve, a thick vein running along his thick, long length.

“Up,” he says, voice coaxing like he’s asking you to breathe.

Your legs wobble as you push yourself off the table, only for his hands to grip your waist and bend you right back over it. Your bare chest pressed to the cushiony surface, cheek against the towel.

“There you go,” he drags the thick head of his throbbing cock through your folds, smearing your slick across your lower lips and on his tip until it could drip off. “Gotta get all that tension out, yeah? Let me work those knots a little deeper.”

You walked in here all shy and tense, even spending twenty minutes willing yourself to open your car door. New client, first massage, all stiff shoulders and tight posture. Said your job had you aching. Said you needed relief.

And the first time he saw you, big eyes, nervous smile, a little stutter from your lips when he first touched your shoulders.

He knew exactly what you needed.

“First massage,” he breathes, lining his tip to your entrance.

Then he pushed in. Deep.

You choke on a moan. He’s so thick, splitting you open inch by inch, your walls struggling and stretching to take him. His hands dig into your waist, still warm with oil, just holding you savoring the moment he finally sinks all the way in.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back. “That’s it- just like that- you were made for this.”

He pulls back, only until just the tip lay past your entrance, before slamming back in. And you jerk, fingers scrambling for purchase on the table.

Each stroke rocks through your spine. Your tits drag against the table, mouth hanging open, drool smearing the table. Your mind’s a blur, just the sound of skin slapping, Gojo’s breathy moans, and the obscene, wet noise of him slamming into you over and over and over.

“Say thank you,” he almost growls, snapping his hips up so deep your toes curl. “Say it.”

“T-thank you,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Then, smack. A sharp slap to your ass, and you whine.

“For what?”

“F-fucking me- oh my god- for fucking me-”

“No,” he pants, rutting into you harder now, cock hitting that sweet spot so perfect it could make you squeal. “Say it right. Thank you for relieving my stress.”

“Thank you-” you cry out, broken and shaking. “Thank you for- mmh- relieving my stress.”

He leans over you, his hardened chest against your back, cock still pistoning in your soaked cunt. His mouth finds your neck, tongue dragging across your bare skin before he bites. Sucks. Marks you.

Another hickey. Then another.

You’re completely gone, every thrust having your eyes fluttering, your moans shameless, drool coating your lower face. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his thick length more than you already were, clenching with every thrust, every filthy word.

His hips stutter, balls tightening as he pounds you into the table.

“So fucking tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum- fuck- gonna cum all over this pretty back.”

And he does. One last brutal thrust and he pulls out, cock twitching before spilling across your lower back in hot, thick ropes, painting your skin in streaks of white.

He watches it drip down your spine, chest heaving, cock still half-hard and still twitching from how hard you just milked him for all he’s worth.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, leaning down to admire his work. “You really were stressed, huh?”

Then he drags a hand up your spine, wiping his fingers through the mess he made, rubbing it into your skin like a filthy seal.

The air is thick with heat, sex, and you. His hand rubs sensual circles into your back.

“You good, sweetheart?” he brushes the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

You nod, dazed, wrecked, legs still trembling. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft, slow, tender in a way that almost startles you.

“First kiss,” he whispers against your lips.

Then he straightens, grabbing a warm towel from the side table. His hands are gentle as they wipe you down, cleaning you with a reverence that borders on obscene. He helps you stand straight, pressing another kiss to your temple, his big hands careful and supportive.

“So…” he starts, tapping his lip. “Same time next week?”

You can only stare, flushed and panting.

“No charge, obviously,” he adds, giving you a wink. “I’m invested in your health now.”

Of course you’re coming back. With a dick like that? With a mouth like that? You’d be stupid not to.

You shake your head, trying not to smile.

“Take your time, I’ll be outside.”

The door closes behind him with a soft click.

You sigh, dragging yourself over to the side table on shaky legs, slowly redressing like your soul wasn’t just rearranged. You grab your clothes, pulling your bra back on, then your shirt, then-

Your panties.

Your panties?

You check under the table. Beside it. In the towel pile.

Your brows shoot up, a slow, disbelieving laugh escapes your lips.

That smug thieving bastard.

He took them, slipping them into his pocket. You shake your head as you pull on your pants, cheeks still flushed, heart returning to a normal rate.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely coming back.

4K notes · View notes

lokissweater · 10 months ago

Text

DON’T HAVE TO GUESS

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta is the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this earth. one problem though? he refuses to touch you out of fear of making you uncomfortable or disrespecting you (no matter how bad he wants it). your pent up sexual frustration is at an all time high and you’re sick of him rejecting your advances, so you devise a plan to get him to crack.

content: MDNI. FILTHY SMUT, smut with plot, established relationship, afab!reader, pet names, references to alcohol and drinking, college party, cursing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), dirty talk, FERAL YUTA, oral, creampie, yuta is down bad for you.

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: theming inspired by charli xcx ft. miss billie eilish’s song “guess�� !! MWAH.

if you would like to know the origin story of this au, you can read it here! but it can also be read without it :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

yuta felt like an absolute freak.

ever since you both officially became a couple, he’s been the absolute happiest man alive and never ever goes a day without showering you with affection, kisses, and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

but behind that? yuta has a little secret.

and he is gnawing at the iron bars of his enclosure in absolute torture every time you do something, anything, that can get his little horn dog mind to imagine you in thirty five different positions on his bed crying out for him.

it doesn’t even have to be something you do that remotely resembles anything sexual, so on a day where you were sitting pretty beside him in the passenger seat of his car, the blood rushing to his dick at the sight of the seatbelt strap pushing in between your puffy boobs—

he knew it was bad.

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

taglist <3: @turtlesaee @heretoreadfics

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tsuyalovebot · 4 months ago

Text

make him lose his cool.

suggestive and sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader.

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos.) no sex, but caleb popping a boner like a victorian man. afab reader (that also wears bras). mc=reader.

"caleb is an ass man!" "no, he likes tits!"

personally, i think caleb would have a near panic attack upon seeing your shoulder, elbow, or ankle.

he just does a really good job of pretending he doesn't mind it. after all, the two of you grew up together. he's had to put his hands on you many times — carrying, tending to scrapes and cuts, tickling you, ruffling your hair, squeezing your face. skinship was a language that the two of you were plenty fluent in.

but the year spent apart failed to maintain this, like some half-assed video streaming subscription, and caleb's the newborn fawn learning how to walk.

so what happens when he knocks on the room to his bedroom — it belongs to you now, technically — with a plate of breakfast before coming in, and he witnesses you sitting up, all sleepy and the neckline of his shirt slightly sliding down your shoulder?

he's going to throw himself off a cliffside. maybe even off skyhaven itself.

the plate hits the bedside table on your side with a loud clatter. none of the food spilled over, luckily. he has half a mind to garble some lame excuse about being busy and a quick good morning before trying to bolt.

but, caleb nearly snaps into two when you tug at the hem of his shirt, slumber still slurred in your words as you ask where he's going. there'd been no strength in that tug. yet, he stopped in his tracks all the same. he ends up listening to your grumbles, ones reminding him that it's his day off, remember? you promised you'd spend it with me.

"i gotta take a shower first," he chuckles, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. please don't notice. please don't notice.

"but caleb," you keen.

god, it's like when he'd take leave from the academy for a few days just to go back to you and gran. always coming home to you, thoroughly acquainted with you not being a morning person but still making the effort to cling to him and savor every second you two spent together.

he assumed it would be the same now, but clearly, that was a mistake. because the coiling tension of warmth threatening to boil over in his stomach was nothing short of treacherous.

caleb does manage to escape; albeit pained by the half-awake whines behind him and the sound of you falling back into bed. god, how badly he wanted to cave into your demands. you don't even know the half of it.

he wonders if you've ever curled into his side of that bed he once slept on, seeking his cologne, his body, his warmth the same way he looks for your silhouette in every corner of this home. a melody he knows, but a name he can't quite place in this shell of a house that transformed in your presence.

regardless, it's really difficult to let this relationship rebuild organically when he was popping a boner over the slightest sliver of skin. the shower's streams are icy on his skin, the impromptu bath having thrown a wrench into his morning routine. he refuses to even touch himself. letting the proof of his sin soften under the biting cold of the water, despite the discomfort.

because nothing was more horrific than having his body react to you like a prepubescent teen discovering porn online for the first time.

caleb thinks he's safe after spending an hour in the bathroom, fingertips pruned and mind cooler than the iciest of planets. but as he's changed back into his clothes, he discovers you beside the door, a blanket around your sitting form and those eyelids droopy.

"pipsqueak? what're you doin' here?" he's crouching down — mortifying boner forgotten as he gathers you into his arms before he realizes it.

then, you stir. a whine muffled into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, the vibration seeming to ripple down his spinal column. the blanket falls from your body in the motions, and you're so soft compared to the firmness of his body.

his arms tighten around you on instinct and you let out a pleased sound and—

he stiffens. you weren't wearing a bra.

"caleb, you're done." you yawn, like the spoiled, pampered figurehead of royalty you are. you arch up into him, and he swears he feels several of his neurons die, dropping like flies in the empty cavity of his head.

"take me back to bed." he feels the air shift as you seem to inhale his scent. your voice softer, more content when you say, "i wanna sleep some more."

he's so fucking doomed.

#not enough people understand the concept of yearning #he is starved. ravenous and absolutely depraved #but it's so good because of the moral dilemma that comes with it #he totally feels guilty the first time he realizes the slightest touch with you would rile him up #i imagine it being around late high school #when he realizes the weight of his attraction to you.#and it's delicious.#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader #lads caleb #lads caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #lnds #caleb smut #𐙚 ; bǎo bèi.#mimi.writes

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tonycries · 2 months ago

Text

Lady & The Sick Man - T.F.

Synopsis. Most people would run away from the ghost in their shabby new apartment, Toji Fushiguro makes you lose your mind.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Lady K!reader, Lady K & The Sick Man AU, roommates-to-Iovers, sIeazy Toji, he cooks for you, male mast., face-sítting (fem rec.), Toji’s DOWN BAD, pússydrúnk Toji, dry húmping, matíng presses, he’s BIG, tummy buIges, pushing down on it, MARATHONS, bréeding, spítting, dúmbifícation, fíngering, cúmplay, making him whímper, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 11.1k

A/N. Babygirls, I WILL cry if this doesn’t post-

All in all, it wasn’t the most awful place, considering the dirt-cheap price.

Toji certainly could’ve done worse for himself after being sacked from his job - some nonsense about recessions and workforce reduction, go figure - and racking up a mountain of arrears on his last home.

Sure, a few questionable mildew stains here, and perhaps a broken floorboard there. But this unverified property wasn’t completely run-down; at the very least it had running water, a dingy kitchen, tolerable enough neighbors, and…

…you.

It was only a few hours after moving into his new apartment that Toji understood exactly why the rent was cheap enough even for him. Exactly why the jittery landlord was oh-so-insistent on signing the contract right away. And exactly why he’d kept looking over his shoulder all throughout their rushed “tour” - as if dreading for something to pop out of thin air any second now.

Like a pretty lil’ poltergeist haunting the closet inside his bedroom.

Toji sighs out a clammy breath at his glaring phone screen, thumb brushing over the twentieth interview rejection this week.

Honestly, with his recent lack of employment success and the sheer amount of boxes he had to unpack, a ghost seemed like the last of his worries.

It wasn’t as if he really wanted to do something about his unsolicited roommate in the first place - not that he had the funds to move again, anyway - because from what little he’d seen of you since moving in today, you were harmless.

And…fucking hot.

Startling out a disbelieving huff of laughter, Toji empties out a boiling hot kettle over two matching cups of instant ramen. The bubbling red sauce molten and simmering to the surface exactly in time with the traitorous flush over his ears.

Almost hunched-over in his snug kitchen, he could visualize it from glimpses already— that skin-tight dress of yours, so thin it looked see-through, always peering at him from corners with those confused, gorgeous eyes.

Like he’s sure you were doing right now.

“D’you want the spicy or the extra-spicy noodles, doll–?” Toji’s crooning out somewhere behind his back, lazy drawl laced with a titter of sheer amusement as he hears your shocked squeak. Followed shortly by the urgent thud-thud-thud of you surely running back to the safe haven of your - his - bedroom. Calling out, “Oi! S’not that bad.”

Turning back, he warily eyes the soils of chemicals swimming around inside the mouth-watering concoction that’d become his dinner every night since getting fired.

Well, Toji’s bored, mossy eyes flit questioningly from the tower of instant ramen stocked up on his kitchen counter to the shadows where you’d disappeared. If even a dead person wouldn’t eat those then…

And it hurt - ah, did it hurt for him to grab a handful of the ones he’d begrudgingly acknowledged were extra awful for your insides. Big, beefy hands shovelling them down his waste bin with a pained grunt-

Wait- did said dead people even eat? He has no idea, and yet carries both scalding hot cups to the room he’d become quickly accustomed to. Even despite his afterlife accomplice.

“Yoohoo, pretty lady~ I got somethin’ for ya.” He’s cooing as he enters, husky bass dipping into something softer. Smoother.

With a humming gruff, he seats himself down on the scratchy tatami floor. Surrounded by so many boxes upon boxes to be sorted through, quirked gaze locked firmly on the shut sliding doors of the closet. That papery wall just opposite him was so flimsy that he could almost see you watching from behind it, waiting.

And Toji waits, too.

He waits until his senses get used to the slightly damp, willowy scent of the four walls.

He waits until his ears grow strained n’ tired from yearning for but a single sound that you were still there with him.

He waits until he’d finished both savory, now-lukewarm cups - in his defense, job-searching and trying to make nice with your resident ghoul will really work up an appetite, alright?

Letting off yet another exhausted gust of air, Toji’s just about to throw his hands in defeat and dispose of the remnants of his dinner - perhaps even try and forget about this entire ordeal altogether. Briefly-unused joints creaking as he stands up, he’s shaking his head free of you when his eyes land on something.

Actually, more someone.

That raunchily flashy cover of one of his favorite porn DVDs, propped right on top of one open box, the actress in it smiles brightly in a sheer white dress that reminded him too much of yours.

He gulps– if he remembered correctly, it was about some foreign exchange student that seduced her nervous roommate and- Toji’s lids crack wider, the sleaziest of leers plastering allll across his face. Well, hey…

SLAM!

The cozy closet trembles with both surprise and poor woodworking as Toji all but crashes it open, making quick work of fitting himself inside the stifling airway and propping open the hidden attic doorway homed on the ceiling. The only place he would expect a ghost to disappear off to.

Shit, you think he looked so unfairly handsome like this.

Cottony black fabric of his sweater hanging off of his every bulging muscle, heavy eyelids half-hiding away that glinting stare. Devouring.

One meaty palm pushing the rickety door upwards, his grin is vulgar as his sights land on your crouched figure. Rasping, “Hey there.” The heated gasps of his words barely hit your face before Toji’s other hand- oh, his other hand shoots up in a split-second to curl sternly around your neck.

Tight.

Before you know it, you’re letting yourself be pulled into a filthy, filthy kiss.

Fuck- Toji’s honed canines snag against the cute plush of your wobbly bottom lip and make you sing out the prettiest whine. Biting back a groan himself when the spit-filled crevice of your mouth parts way to let him squeeze his tongue in - making you suck.

You tasted like the most syrupily cloying candy and, hell, Toji wasn’t one for sweets but now he wanted more.

More more more.

The doughy mounds of his sensory tips itch out bruises right near where your pulse was thundering, he’s flexing his strong arms and reeling you in even closer. So soft and warm; you were practically melting into every swipe of his mushy tastebuds, and he was drinking you in like a man dying of thirst.

Straightening his towering height even more into the attic, it was like he was burning. Bright, boiling red. A rugged palm gliding to your beautiful nape and pushing-

Every breath. Every whine. Every slippery dollop of spit that dribbled out of your unfastened maw and straight into his watering mouth.

Toji was a damn sloppy man - and he was just as cocky, too. Feeling your nose nuzzle against his cheek in an effort to get him to kiss you deeper, he’s parting one bleary eyelid just a fraction to envision the full force of his effect on you.

Trembling and impatient. How cute.

One dark brow raises at the way your lashes were so close and clumped with great glittering droplets of tears. Sliiiiding just away to take in the way your thighs were squeezing–

“Hck!” You’re breaking off from the lecherous French kiss with a sappy pwah! delicate strings of spittle, still dangling from each of your lips as Toji drunkenly chases after your mouth.

Feeling his gawking on you, your hand shoves shyly between your legs. And the other shoves him right out of the opening of the attic, as if you weren’t raw putty in his palms just mere sultry seconds ago.

Fuck.

Toji finds himself thrown back onto the wooden closet floor, marvelling at the thunderous crash of you locking yourself back away - and yet he still can’t fully compute it all.

A calloused palm comes up to cover the lower half of his face, mind whirling over and over with the burning memory, and before long he’s realizing that he’s let his kiss-swollen lips leak with a thin trail of drool. Him. Drooling.

Even more once he’s thinking of it again - the way you were sooo fucking wet, just from a kiss.

“What….the…f-fuck.” Toji mutters to himself, stare latched dazedly to the closed wooden surface of the attic as if just willing it to somehow open once more. Toned thighs making to leave and-

Oh.

It’s right then and there that the man looks down at the hardest fucking boner he’s ever gotten in his entire life, wet n’ achingly swollen. Almost as if his prolonged length was about to break through his sweatpants right this very second-

“Dammit.”

Back at Toji Fushiguro’s last place, there’d been no one but himself to keep him company.

Which wasn’t necessarily bad - he’d still had his instant ramen (almost all of it now thrown away because of…health reasons), his vast porn collection (given away to a few friends, no use keeping something he couldn’t watch with you around), and occasional small talk with his neighbors (his current ones seemed to avoid him for whatever reason.)

Right now, it was just him. And-

“You know, I hear these new microwave meals are supposed ta be killer, pretty lady.”

“Ahh–!”

“Oh- sorry. S’that too insensitive?” Toji snickers out, sounding not even an ounce apologetic as he catches the cute frill of your ghoul-like dress disappearing behind the corner of the grim kitchen wall.

It was about as much of a conversation as he’d managed to coax out of you in the week you’d started cohabitating.

A week of letting you squeak and ogle at him from the shadows as you pleased, a week of trying his very best not to show off the puffing bulge of his muscles whenever he worked out unabashedly in front of you. A week since…that kiss.

“How rude.” He’s scoffing, though the curling twitch of his lips says otherwise. Eyes still honed on the way the very crown of your head just spies out from the corner. Cute.

Seating himself on the creaky kitchen table, Toji places the second microwave dinner right opposite him and pretends not to notice as you pad a few tentative steps forwards. Picking idly at the soggy rice on his plate, he feels the bottom of his stomach twist with something strangely akin to delight.

Closer. And closer.

You’re peaking curiously over at the clouds of steaming tendrils that waft off of the food, catching a whiff and- nose crinkling in disgust, you scamper away before Toji can even feel disappointed.

“Yuck.”

Grumbling, “Now that was really rude.”

Well, he really didn’t know why he was so intent on befriending the cute lil’ ghost that lived in his closet attic. And he really didn’t know why he found himself trudging over to that tiny nook tucked away in his bedroom later that night, full of a microwave dinner he certainly won’t be buying again.

Blankets and flattened pillow in hand, Toji’s eyes rover for any sign of you - any.

But, alas, as most things tend to do, it doesn’t exactly go the way he hoped.

“Hmm– no sign of her.” He murmurs underneath his breath, uncertain hands setting his impromptu bed down on the closet floor. Volume lilting just a few pitches louder in emphasis, “Guess I’ll go to sleep then.” Higher - and so does his head up into the looming darkness where you were sure to be. Slithering underneath the warm covers, “This is me now. Sleeping.”

And Toji doesn’t exactly have to pretend to fall asleep - not quite.

Long lashes shuttering; the net of slumber casts down on him sluggishly - it’s not long before his chest grows heavier, breaths more staggered, and a heated body settles into his bed.

You.

“Ya came back for more, huh?” His softly musing groan strikes the back of your neck like a scorching breeze, skittering such delicious goosebumps all over your body and all underneath that useless piece of cloth you called a dress.

Making him wonder where else…

Plump, puckered lips hit the side of your throat and you shiver– hips gyrating back in a lewd figure eight to where Toji was spooning you now.

He was so big, in every sense of the word. Chiseled washboard abs gently caressing down your arched spine in a repeated back n’ forth, every ridge massages you depravedly, the plush pillows of his pecs cushioning your back.

When Toji’s broad arms wrap snugly around your body, so do his meaty thighs pinning you to him. Instantaneously, your head tumbles backwards with a stuttered gasp, “Please.”

And something in Toji twitches. Something in him awakes.

“Ohhhh– so ya can be nice?” He purrs, roaming over one hand in a carnal grip on the globes of your ass. He’s savoring that sweet, sweet sound of your voice begging for him and- shit, he really hadn’t dreamed of this last week. “Say it- say it f’me again like a good girl?”

“P-please.”

“Hmmm, how cute.”

The very tip of his thumb writes out a cursive Toji on the right cheek of your ass, playfully tapping its way down to cup your fluttering core.

You were so fucking wet that the fabric of your dress was clinging between your legs in a way that made him jealous, sticky fabric seeping through with a few glistening slathers of syrupy wet slick. Practically flooding out a lil’ damp spot where his massive cock was stirring.

“Fuck- hellooooo girls.” That hooked scar tickles down the tenderest spots of your neck to pant out humid breaths over the swell of your breasts. A viscid layer of sweat slicking up those perked nipples as you squeeze your shaky thighs and push-

Your lungs burn with a fiery need, squeezing out every ounce of air as he’s smearing his hands all over your tits. “-T-Toji.”

His name - you’d memorized his name.

You were going to be the death of him.

And your body renders forwards, dipping the curves of your gorgeous tits further into his ready grasp. You could feel every roughened callous, every palmistry line, every grope he was relentlessly feeling all over. Feeling allll of you.

“Ngh- T-Toji.” You’re slipping out adorably, as if his name was all that you could repeat at this point. Fuzzy brain showing static at the spiking heat of this closet room-

“Yeah- Yeahh–?” It’s all you hear before his rounded digits spank down on your tits, circling out softly against where you were the most sensitive. That high-pitched wail you’re keening out is the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

Toji has the audacity to giggle, thick fingers sneaking underneath your dress to give your pebbled nipples yet another thwack!

“Whoops.” And another. “Sorry-” Dutifully pinching the nibs of your tits as he pecks your jawline, he’s rolling his thumb right over those pointed nipples like he was milking them. “-hand slipped.”

“Y-your fingers–” And you’re choking on numerous saccharine moans when his fingerpads come slamming down once more, the stinging striking rendering your mouth waterlogged with oodles of saliva. “-so m-mean.”

Tears were practically overtaking your pretty features now - but that wasn’t the only place you were letting out sobs from.

Your inner thighs glue together with a clingy film of bawling sap out from your cunt, puffy lips so bloated n’ needy that Toji could peer down and count every sinful throb.

“Wouldya look at that–” He’s breathing out, in such awe at the slurping slurs that were springing up from your dampened pussy. Almost as if she was squelching out in conversation, he nods, “She’s more talkative than you. This heh- turns ya on- doesn’t it, pretty lady?”

Velvety sweater skirting up, he’s dragging the thick, scratchy tufts of a black happy trail straightly down your squirming back. Pushing you against a sexily tensed core, your heart races as you could feel him harden.

“Mmm…could bury myself here forever.” His voice cracks sloppily as he cranes over to muffle the ends of that particular sentence into your heaving mounds. Musked cologne hitting your senses, filthy tongue flopping out to smack your tender areolas and draaaaag-

“Toji- Toooji–”

“Heh- m’here. Your Toji’s here, sweet thing.” He’s snarling as he bites, glistening white edges of his teeth scraping your raw flesh. Voice warbling - high, his raven lashes flap furiously to keep his vision from hazing over. “C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon don’t hide ‘em from me.”

Sensually, he’s trekking his hand near the hem of your dress and tugging down until he can fully try to suffocate himself between your pretty tits.

Toji didn’t need fucking air - the sight of you was heavenly enough, making him buck so that the curly black hairs near his base scratch your skin and leave it stinging.

Tongue simply ruthless, whisking out soppy dollops of spittle that drip down your nipples and purposefully make a mess. Sucking and sucking while he ruts from behind with a groan.

Messy. Toji was making sure of it.

The slimy trailway of his tongue laps and laps until your eyes are bulging halfway out of their sockets, grunting. “You got it- you got it, sugar.” He latches on hypnotically to your left nipple and gnaws a generous mouthful. “Keep up now- I bite.”

Jaw dropped, toes curled.

Babbling broken ohs! and Toji! your lips smack away incoherently through bouts of bubbling slobber. He’s watching with awe as your legs fall open, glue-stuck pussylips spreading wiiidely apart-

Swallowing a leaden ball at the sheer amount of wetness you were pouring out. Bucketloads, really.

Pretty.

Toji grabs ahold of your humping hips with a groan, pushing you all snug n’ cozy against his throbbing cock. Spying from beneath his unruly black bangs, “Would make the s-sweetest fuckin’ birthing hips, pretty lady.”

He was so…massive.

Gasping, the very action of you scrambling up onto your elbows makes your vision swim with a few blotches of black - still tingling all over with the buzz of being so close.

You’re shivering, a sudden yelp escaping your glossed lips as you nudge Toji away with something that resembled a headbutt and ran.

Well, more like crawled with whatever strength you had left - all the way back up your safe, dark attic whilst leaving the man disoriented below.

And it was not just because of your forehead crashing into his.

“Shiiiiit.” Toji belts out a low whistle, a hand dipping down to grab his thickened cock through his drenched-through sweats. He’s laid all out on his back now, staring up at the shuttered attic door where you’d disappeared, “I’m fucked.”

It was quite a change to be sleeping with a ghost - in the most literal sense, he wasn’t sleeping sleeping with a ghost.

Turning into somewhat of a routine now to find himself woken up inside the closet space with your sleeping body cuddled softly up to him - at least, until you realize and make it your mission to disappear before he can say more than a few words, that is.

You hadn’t progressed past a few cute whines n’ touches here and there, and even that was enough for Toji to lose his damn mind this past week.

He thought of you when he cooked, he thought of you while his neighbor squawked at every glimpse of him, he thought of you in the shower - especially in the shower, in fact, with one hand wrapped around his hard fucking cock-

-and he was thinking of you right now.

Stood stock-still in front of one of those high-end fashion stores beaming smugly on the bustling streets of Tokyo - the exact type he’d have scoffed and turned his nose up at just a few weeks ago.

But now, Toji was turning his nose at something else - right downwards to search for a price tag on the cute pink dress that was displayed proudly in the middle of the shop window.

It was a skimpy lil’ thing, open and stylish, the exact type he knew you’d look perfect in. The exact type you’d wear so nicely that it’d make him want want to rip it off altogether.

The exact type that was making him gape at the sheer number of zeros on the printed price, jaw moving up and down soundlessly as he double takes - was it legal to charge this much for a fucking dress? How the hell was he supposed to even get it for y-

Wait. Toji straightens up until he’s ramrod as a pole, not even caring for the way passersby give him the dirtiest of looks as his bulky frame blocks most of the sidewalk. Why was he even thinking of buying this for you in the first place? Did ghosts even-

“Steep price eh, sonny?”

He’s turning ‘round towards the aged, grating voice of the shopkeeper who’d apparently come outside to investigate his conundrum.

The older man smiles apologetically at him, as if he wasn’t the one that was responsible for half those prices anyway. “You know how it is with these one-of-a-kind pieces. Lowest I could put it at, of course.”

Toji nods without a word, feet itching to remove himself from this awkward situation before-

“S’for a special lady o’ yours, isn’t it?”

“None of your business, old man.” Toji snarls, not much bite to his words.

Judging by the way the clerk smirks, he’d figured out that he hit the target dead-on. And the frosty cold of the city air had never bitten the tips of Toji’s ears sharper, redder. Waving a weathered hand airily, “Tell ya what- I don’t usually do this, but I’ll reserve this piece until you collect ‘nough of those salaries and buy it for ya girl. How about it?”

And usually - usually - Toji would have told the man to fuck right off with those bargains. “One-of-a-kind” his ass.

But…his eyes drift to the gauzy, delicate dress, the way it fitted on the mannequin. And how much more gorgeous you’d look in it. Salaries, huh?

With a firm nod, and a reluctant handshake with the shopkeeper, he finds himself browsing once more through a few employment sites he’d all but cursed the name of and abandoned a few weeks ago.

One thing at a time, Toji ponders, shuffling his phone back into his pocket, albeit with a few fresh webpages bookmarked.

Now, back onto his mission to head to the nearest supermarket - namely the fresh produce section.

Which…actually didn’t turn out to be as much of a wild goose chase as he expected about two hours, a pissed shop employee, and three burnt fingers later.

Skin muggy with the stifling kitchen air, hands placed on either side of his waist in a way that reminded Toji of his mother- “So?” He grouches out, the nonchalance in his voice given away as nothing but a façade with the way his feet tap-tap-tap. “How about it? Michelin star or what?”

The subject of his attention - you, like most days recently - only scrunches your nose in distaste. A spoon filled to the brim with steaming hot miso soup inching ever-closer to your mouth with the air of a lamb being carted off to slaughter.

And a fucking massacre it was once the taste hits your awaiting buds and you spit–

“Oi-”

“Yuck!”

So much for Michelin stars, Toji’s grumbling to himself as he takes your same spoon and savors the miso soup with tofu for himself. Face crinkling immediately like a piece of paper at the salt bomb that assaults his senses, “Too much miso.”

Well, it seems he couldn’t fault your ghostly tastebuds just yet - but in his defense, it was his first time doing anything as sensible as this!

“Pretty lady~” Toji coos out, kneeling on the frigid quilt of his kitchen tiles to bring himself eye-level with your crouched figure in the shadows. “C’mere, sorry about the miso- try the tofu.”

And it was almost…adorable how you’re tentatively skulking your way over, pretty lips pulled into a permanent pout after his mess of soup.

As soon as you’re close enough, he’s popping a hand into one of the bowls and plucking out a creamy wad of tofu to nudge inside your mouth; slightly mushy in his touch, but at the very least you don’t wince too much at the overdone flavor of it.

In fact, you actually swallowed.

“Mmm–”

Leering, “Delicious, huh?”

“No.”

“Fine then- not bad.” Cackling out a hoarse bark of laughter, amusement sets his features aglow as Toji thumbs over the stray smidgens of white that stuck to your salivating lips. Catching a few beaded droplets of soup, “Messy girl. Look at you.”

You’re whining as he smears over the sleek spillage, trickling from between your lips and down to where your see-through dress was drenched almost non-existent.

Fuck.

You really were messy - and it was driving him crazy.

Parched Adam’s apple bobbing up n’ down in his scratchy throat at the glistening stickiness where your tits were heaving, his strained breaths aching to match your own. Pants tightening, buzzing fingertips twitching, Toji can’t even think before he unfastens his mouth with a dry, “Let…let me try something, doll?”

Your mouth drips hot and open as soon as Toji tugs down on his snugly-fitted sweatpants until his throbbing cock proudly slaps at his tensed core.

And when you imagined that he might be big - you didn’t think he’d be big.

Red n’ swollen, the glittering tip of his mushroom crown was sprinkling out pearly drops of pre at the sudden sting of the cold kitchen draft. Simply gaudily decorated with fatly pumping veins all ‘round his girthy sides, they slithered in a zig-zag towards the clammy tufts of his happy trail.

Nine- maybe even ten solid inches that twitch as your glassy eyes set sight on all of him greedily. So ridiculously massive that your mouth was starting to water already.

“Just hafta watch me, pretty lady.” Toji gruffs out solemnly, one of his burly hands curling around his meaty hilt. The ridges of his teeth sink down as he bites back a simmering hiss- “Just- just–”

Trailing off into merely nothing but soft rasps as he’s starting up short, stout tugs of his painfully hard cock. Not made of rocks, but made of fucking diamonds and jolting out creamy spatters of precum with every slight squeeze.

He was teasing. Toying. Just blushing cherry red at his tip, a saccharine lil’ color that made you want to inch forwards…

“Awww- yer drooling, sweet thing.” Toji interrupts your train of thought with a cocky tilt of his head, narrowed gaze flittering down to the thin line of spit that’d started to overspill from your maw. “Heh- never seen a guy so big, huh?”

You’re shaking your head in a way that makes the man groan, and with a vulgar few flicks of his capped thumb underneath the jutting ridge of his slit, Toji shoots out his free hand. Darting, in two bats of your shocked lashes you’re registering that he’d locked one hand around your neck and was pulling you.

Unapologetically tittering, “No needa be shy now.” Closer. Closer. Faintly wondering whether ghosts could bruise, the curved margins of his nails bite down your rapid pulsation. “C’mere.”

Mewling once gusts of his bodyheat radiate in waves, making your skin prickle with cold sweat. Your spine aches with the effort of being manhandled close, “T-Toji…”

“Tha’s right, m’here.” He’s grunting from above, scarred lips pulling into a prowling snarl as he smears the tender side of his length against your cheek. Burning hot and messy, your features gleam with a sprayed sheen of sweltering pre. “S’a biiig fucking cock, huh?”

“Please-” You’re latching down onto the elastic hem of his pants, mindlessly yanking away until you could see the chubby curve of his fat breeder balls. “S-sooo big.”

“Greedy greedy.” Toji’s right hand slows down to a slooow crawl up and down his plump shaft, taking his lazy time to tug open your prettily pouted maw with his other hand. “Heh- could open that pretty mouth all wide f’me and it s-still wouldn’t fit, doll.”

With a wailing protest, you’re letting him lilt your mouth open further- and fuck, the way that pinkish tongue of yours flops out eagerly makes Toji dizzy.

His own tastebuds flooded with a freshly scalding wave of briny spittle, just starting to threaten near the crevices of his stern lips before he cranes his head towards yours and spits.

Splattering.

Now, Toji had good aim - perfect, actually. But where was the fun in that?

His rotund thumb swipes away a few speckles of excess, plugging the frothy remnants back between your whiny lips. The way your brows scrunch at the impact is so adorable, “Look at you- all greedy for this cock. Sooo fuckin’ wet already.”

“M’n-not…”

Liar, your cunt seemed to throb. Legs trembling together whilst your whirling pupils followed every draaaagging stroke of Toji’s big hands, the way he’d softly caress his lengthy digits over those delicate lightning bolts of his veins. It made you clench around nothing just to imagine how they would feel inside.

You blubber out a sobbing, “T-Toji.”

“Say it- say m’name again.” Toji drawls out sluggishly. Needy. He’s spitting down his spheroid cockhead, pumping angrily. “C’mon, say it-”

“Toji-”

“Again.”

Stuttering, slobbering with every gyrating hump gifted into the heady air.

“Toji…” Your bottom lips swells with your biting nibble, “-cum f’me.”

And as soon as the axons in his body pull taut and snap, he’s scrambling up from his seated position onto his knees to push his weepy tip into your face and cum.

Alllll over your pretty face - great, dripping cobwebs of seed that make his heavy thighs shake with sheer force. Whacking his bulbously swollen tip against your lips so that the ivory topping swabs across every inch he could reach.

Toji’s clawing on a tight hold around your neck to keep your cutely squirming self in place, his sharp hips jutting outwards in a slow gyrating pace. As if he was fucking an invisible you - envisioning it whilst his stringy bouts of sweltering hot cum dripped down your face.

Sloppy, sloppy.

“Shiiiit, haven’t cum this hard in…” His deep bass trembles, eyes glazing over with something primal and dreamy. Practically melting for you, “...in forever.”

The fastest he’s ever had, he shakes back the red, red blush scalding his ears now- just from you and those words. You.

You’re mewling, lapping your tongue out to taste the syrupy salted caramel flavor of his oozing sap. Lips gluing together at the thickly glutinous consistency, “Toji- cummin’ so much. Want more.”

“Shit.” Toji hisses, lurching as if he’d just been bolted with a zillion volts of electricity. Instantly, the hand at your throat adjusts you so that you’re splayed out on the kitchen floor. Pretty and slobbering with need for him.

Dewy eyes widening a significant fraction at the way his rounded capped knees settle languidly on either side of your head. He was so thick with chiseled muscles, you think you could cum alone from the way that Toji’s wrapping a hand around his hefty base and milking himself.

Face blossomed red, black brows scrunched, a slow splashing of sweat falls onto your face once he’s squeezing his hilt with a raw squeeeelch–!

“Sh-shit, talking outta pussy when you ngh- can’t even-” Straddling you, he nibbles on the flooded inside of his cheek, whirling peripheries locked on the last few splotches of pure sinful white that cream out of his tip and frost an adhesive capping down his length.

Chest heaving, voice guttural. “-can’t even- even hck!” As he’s finishing off, he guides his length to stand side-by-side with your fucked-out face. The way he was bigger than your head. Airily musing, “-fit this.”

You can only whine in protest, “A-as if.”

“Sass.” And Toji’s overstimulated cockhead twitches once, twice as he drifts a hand over to thumb his fattened pad on a particularly knotted puddle of cum beside your cheek. Gliding it allll down your wobbly lips like a sticky lipgloss, “Damn beautiful, too.”

With a shy peck on his meaty palms, you slip away into the shadows as you usually do. And eventually he’ll find his charcoal lashes dipping lower with fatigue, skin still sizzling with you and his high and you-

“Oh? Ya also wanted a change tonight, doll?” Toji pauses, worm-patterned blanket (it was half-off, alright!) partly spread in his arms.

Now about an hour later and back in his dingy bedroom, Toji stares with bated breath as you sneak out from the cracks of his open closet.

It wasn’t like him to leave you all alone, but after a week of his back moaning and aching at him- well, a night away from that teensy shack you called a home wouldn’t hurt right? At least not physically, it was tough for a man his size to squeeze himself inside without any afterlife powers.

What he certainly didn’t expect was for you to move back into the proper bedroom with him.

Cuddling your back against his toned front, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Arms tight around your waist like glue, legs tangling together sweetly. Toji finds himself scoffing at the rosy heat that rises irrationally up to the tips of his ears - practically mocking him.

“G’night, pretty lady.”

“Good night…Toji.”

Burying his face into the soft crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see his furious blush, he thinks he’s never slept more peacefully.

Once in a blue moon - emphasis on once in a blue moon - Toji actually begrudgingly appreciates the presence of Shiu Kong in his life.

Sure, the man was an ass and absolutely too proud of those pencil lines he called a stache, but he was employed, at the nearby gym no less. And the best part about having a friend that was employed was that he could help Toji himself get employed.

And it was walking back home after (completely, totally acing) his job interview as a boxing coach, swiping through the email with his advance and the request that he start next week, that Toji runs into his enigma of a neighbor.

Ichiro…Ijishi…? Something of the sort. Running on the fumes of his good day, Toji raises his hand at the fidgety, spectacled man in greeting, “Yo- Itachi.”

Honestly, he couldn’t have looked more terrified had he been welcomed by a phantom. And Toji would know…

Jumping about a proper three feet in the air, he’s breaking out in a glittering cold sweat all over. Muttering incoherently, “I-it’s Ijichi…”

“Ah, right.” Toji grunts, shocked he even managed to squeak out enough syllables to answer him. Usual conversation was limited to running away or avoiding him altogether - though, perhaps the presence of you had something to do with that fact. Not that he was complaining though, as long as he had you.

Almost as if Ijichi had sensed his thoughts, he’s splaying his hands out in warning, “Y-you know- Toji-san, you should really be careful.”

Halting right in front of his walkway, the taller man raises a brow in questioning. This was bound to be interesting.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while but, th-they say there’s a…” Looking around, shuffling. “-g-g-ghost in that apartment, a woman who lived long ago and- d-died inside that closet. Until you, no one could live there because she would eeep! haunt them. Y-you should really be careful, Toji-san, I’ve been hearing noises from your home at the dead of night lately, too…”

Ah, your moans. He forgot he shared a bedroom wall with the other man, and you were probably louder now since you’d started sleeping in the bedroom with him.

Fingers tightening on the glossy pink shopping bag held in one hand, “S’that so? She’s really this scary ol’ ghoul then?”

“Exactly- it isn’t an o-old wives’ tale, either. Everyone’s seen it, the closet door opening at night, lights flickering, strange voices.” Dark brows furrowing, he trails off. “If you want the- the town’s exorcist, Ogami, is coming to cleanse my a-apartment tonight and has been urging me to give you her number.”

“An exorcist.” The syllables fall flat on Toji’s tongue, “For the ghost.”

“Yes yes- that ol’ woman, ah- exorcist says that the vengeful s-spirit can attach to a human being and sap their life source, tying the ghoul to them forever-”

“I wouldn’t mind that, actually. If it was her.”

He’s surprised to find that he means it.

Leaving Ijichi blubbering in confusion, Toji mutters away something that hopefully sounded like a ‘thanks but no thanks.’ Easily making his way inside, the door had barely slammed closed before you were slamming into him.

Face pushing into the valley of his firm pectorals, arms dangling to reach around his neck. Your fingers tangle into the delicate waves peaking out at his nape and Toji almost purrs, tackling you equally as fervently.

“So- dinner?”

Damn, he couldn’t even deny it anymore. Exorcism and spiritual powers his ass, you’d turned him into some sort of house-husband.

The same thought he’s repeating again and again as he cooks up a mean omurice in that tiny kitchen of his, golden brown and perfectly crisp on the edges.

All thanks to two hours of online research and bugging Shiu - his usefulness strikes again, dammit.

Toji takes great pride in drawing a lil’ heart of ketchup on the mounded middle, like he’d heard maid cafés do. Watching as you sniff. Cautious…and then scoff it down in generous gulps. Smirking, “So…Michelin stars?”

You’re only nodding, leaning over to plant a lingering peck- “Mhm.”

“Knew it.”

You were eating something he cooked - finally, finally eating something he cooked.

Suddenly hit with remembrance, Toji reels back his body a few inches away from your proximity on the kitchen table and almost whines - what the hell have you done to him? Shuffling through the few groceries, he waves one bag tantalizingly in front of your face, “Guess what, pretty lady.”

Oh, Toji was right.

If you asked him, he would say that he’s always right - but he was especially right in his assumption that you’d look jaw-droppingly gorgeous in that pretty pink number from the shop.

The old man had kept his word, reserving that dress so that Toji could splurge almost all of the hefty advancement fee from that brand-spankin’ new job of his. Later that night, he sat criss-crossed on his bedroom tatami, awaiting the fashion show. Letting you waltz out of the closet, nervously donned in a gauzy layer of fabric that hugged your body just so-

“C’mere. Shit, c’mere.” Toji rasps out, one hand sliding down his face because shit- the other clamors for his phone to take a picture. He glances down at the kassha-! of the screen, jaw dropping when- “Oh, ya really are a ghost.”

You’re spying over at the photo that showed nothing - literally. Nothing but a dress floating in midair, you shrug. “Duh.”

“Well, whatever-” Toji grouches, so much for setting a picture of you as his lockscreen. More preoccupied with the success of you becoming more talkative lately, “-do ya like it, doll?”

“Mhm– like it a lot.”

“C’mere, then. We hafta celebrate.”

Ah, you had the feeling that ‘celebrate’ meant so much more right now.

Because without warning, Toji’s roughened hand clings to the side of your waist and pulls you until you’re landing cutely to straddle his manspread lap. “Toji…”

“S’alright, sweet thing.” His familiarly heady musk and cologne invade your senses like fog, and Toji’s nose slides alllll the way up and down your gulping throat. Slowly. “M’kinda…starved.” Your hand twitches towards the hem of your dress- before Toji stops you gently. “Nah- keep it on, pretty lady.”

Oh?

Oh.

“O-oh, fuck–!” You’re squealing before long, straddling Toji’s sprawled head, the halo of his unruly bangs tickling your tender inner thighs. Laid out on the matted floors beneath you and leaving a wet peck near the sheeny splatters of slick coating your outer pussy.

Squelch after raw squelch he was ripping out of you with only a few innocent glides of his lips on your own, “No underwear? What a sweet girl ya are f’me.”

You’re gasping as his tongue swirls over a few gumdrops of escaping sap, opening his rugged maw wiiide open to let you see the way they slip n’ slide all the way down Toji’s ravenous gullet.

“Ride. Ride my face- c’mon, ride my face like you own it.”

Hiking your newly-bought dress further up the curve of your ass, your knees ricket in tiny gyrations on top of his maw- needing more. A bullet of beaded sweat drips down your temple, “Stop- teasing, Toji.”

“Demanding now, aren’t we?” A soft spank leaves your mouth cracking with shrilling whimpers, head throwing back at the calloused drag of Toji’s fingers grabbing your ass and pushing you in deeper. A French kiss. “Let me- mm- let me taste ya first, at least.”

Oh, he was mean.

And the only thing meaner than Toji was that damn sinful mouth of his. Purposefully latchin’ his plush lips where your swollen folds were all puckered, letting your legs twitch with each vibration of his throaty groans.

“Wanted this for so long- so long.” He’s letting his spit-glossed tongue swipe suddenly between your drooling slit, a faaaaat drag of his ridged tastebuds. “So long- n’ you’re so fucking sweet.”

“F-fuuuuck– your tongue-”

Toji snickers, hot gusts from his lungs heating your pried-apart core - his widely prolonged tongue flops out eagerly to drink up every sploshing wad of slick that trickles down from your sloppy entrance. Cock twitching at the lacquered gloss hitting his chin, “Mhm- ya like that, right? She likes that- riiight?”

You did. He didn’t even need to fucking ask - your syrup sweet liquid gluing to his tastebuds was enough of a clue.

And Toji didn’t need another sign for his girthy tongue to inch towards your quivering hole, slithering. Sensually, so that every passing second meant you felt the grating scratch of his sensory buds.

“Now–” His nose crinkles in excitement at the thundering sluuuuurp he hears once his mushy tip presses inside your rubbery cunt. Stretching and stretching out your tight channel with a few slashes of his muscle, “-hello to you, too, sugar.”

Was he…giving nicknames to your pussy? Your tear-trapped lashes flutter awake, “Toji- wh-what are you-”

“Shhh- s’alright, doll.” With only one of his hands locking on your waist, he’s easily hoisting you onto your knees- fuck, you didn’t even have to burden your weak limbs with your weight because he was holding you up anyway. Scar-decorated mouth murmuring, “Upsy daisy- you just keep those pretty legs wiiiide open f’me and ride, okay? M’gonna take care of you…”

Words seeping with a dangerous whisper now that he had the perfect view of your pouted pussylips, it made Toji want to lick his own lips in desperate salivation.

Breathy, “Gonna take good- good-” Surging upwards until the tip of his high nosebridge bangs into your treacly clit. Hard. “-good care–” Tongue making a mess, humping up into the air. “-of her.”

You’re whimpering, hands bunching up into your dress to lift it higher once he brutally squeezes past your tight first ring of muscle. Enveloping eeeeevery nook and cranny inside you with his relentless tongue-

“Ngh- Toji–” Your hips restlessly roll into every barreling push of his swiping muscle, thighs flinching with every flick of his curling, dexterous crown stirrin’ your innards. Filling you up until it was maddening.

Just about all he can manage out right now, muffling a lil’ ‘mhm—?’ right when his tongue pokes into one of your earliest tender spots. Treating it like a dart board, he’s stretching his tongue as faaaar and wide as it could go to hit it repeatedly.

Vulgar.

He’s massaging his stinging maw into your saturated pussymound over n’ over until every bit of your steaming hot slick is piled onto his lips. With a harsh grip of one of your asscheeks, and a thumb lugging lazily over your throbbing clit - Toji was sloppy.

And you were simply crying from both ends, bubbling tears clogging up your throat at the bruising pace he was making out with your honeyed cunt to. “H-how are you even- reaching-”

To Toji, it was a personal insult that you were riding his handsome face like this and still had the time to ponder your pretty head with nonsense like that.

Well and fully intending to gnaw on your teary pussy until you were stupid, one of his free hands traverses a sneaky pathway underneath you. The thick, rounded stretch of one of his fingers circlin’ your hole making you moan. “Wh-what- hngh!”

That was more like it, he’s smirking something dark as you clamp around his bulky finger with your dripping wet core. Warm and soft.

So soft. He really can’t help but stare down in pure awe with those sultry hazed eyes of his, watching through partly-open lids when he slaps his tongue down on your perky clit and takes the opportunity as you gasp-

“Fuck! Toji–”

-to rummage in another girthy finger, canines bared back in the tiniest of snarls while he unapologetically pumps back and forth to try and shovel them deeeeply inside. Hissing at the slight resistance, scouring fingertips scraping way inside your flooded wet depths.

And he doesn’t know who’s louder - you or this sweet pussy of yours.

Fuck- with a joint furrow in his brow, Toji’s holding back his rasping pants in an effort to memorize every squelching noise you were letting off from between your legs. “Tha’s it- atta girl, talk t’me.”

Scissoring his knobbled digits all the way until his knuckles are striking your plump lips, lurching out filthy slurp after slurp.

You were just too damn sexy for your own good, and before the next few whimpers of his name can formulate on your tongue, Toji spits a weighty glob of spit down your bulging slit and chases it. Like a moth drawn to flame, he’s pressing the flat of his hot tongue everywhere.

The stray spaces where he was viciously thrusting away inside your entrance, the hood of your clit, the glittering layers of slick caking your inner thighs.

Anywhere, in long depraved licks until your back begins to arch. Voice cracking at a lilt he found familiar, “Please- please please please m’so c-close, Toji-”

“Close, huh?”

You’re damn near falling straight onto your face if it wasn’t for the way Toji holds you up, sobbing when he only dips his fingers ever-deeper right where your nerves were on fire. Slapping a stinging bruise over the patch of your g-spot.

“S’that r-right, sugar?” He gasps through pitched pecks, kiss after kiss of his swirling berry-pink tongue that makes your eyes twirl comically. His own thighs squeeze together, aching for any friction between, “Gonna- gonna cum? Gonna- ngh- cum on my face, sugar?”

Fuck- and every time his pearly white teeth latch on animalistically to the fleshy nub of your clit, your puffy pussy practically screams out answers. Tugging on your perked hood until drool seeps like a river from your lips.

Both pairs, and Toji loved it. Loved what a pretty mess he could make of you.

“S’that so? Uh uh–” He nods, and if you weren’t rendered stupidly speechless right now you might’ve just said a thing or two about the way that he was talking to your dripping cunt. “Mhm? Oh? Oh really…” Before spying over at you through lowered lashes, “Says she’s gonna heh- cum, doll.”

Almost as if he spoke it into existence, you’re hitting your high at that very moment.

“Shit- shit shit shit m’cumming– ngh, m’cumming.”

Rolling his eyes with fondness, “Oh yeah? Give it t’me- give it all, m’fucking ngh- starving.”

“All- all.” Your voice reaches a fever pitch inside those papery-thin walls.

Vision shattering with tears, and you might not have seen the way you’d cum - what with your eyes permanently finding a home at the back of your head - but Toji certainly did.

And fuck, he’s never wished more that ghosts could show up on camera.

Because you weren’t just pretty when you were finally overcome with your orgasm, you were gorgeous. Toes arching cutely, mouth plastering with a fresh lipstain of moisture, throat parched over and over with the sound of his name.

“Pretty girl.” Plopping in another finger with a wet splotchy sound to fuck you through your euphoria. His lengthy tongue aches with the slippery squeeze of your walls, grinding up with every rolling push of your hips. “Pretty pussy.”

You’re cumming and he’s tugging down his currently see-through pants to furiously pump his rock-hard length. Fucking you with his mouth the way he needed to with his bloated cock.

Your body lurches in sparking sensitivity-

Only to be hauled back down unceremoniously by his hand resting upon your throat, “Nuh uh, no runnin’ away.”

Just pouring wet, and Toji was more than happy to drink up every ounce and sappy wad. The treacly slabs of his saliva so weighty and thick that you could almost taste it on your own stinging buds.

Toji’s kiss-swollen scar smeeeears down your clit one last time n’ stays there playfully, “Heh- had my fill, pretty lady. Now about that dress…”

It’s only then that you’re gathering all your bearings enough to gaze down at your dress- well, initially supposed to be the drenched hem of your new clothes.

But instead what your eyes are drawn to was the way that big, bad Toji looked so ruined.

His sparse chest hair glinting in the dim-lighting with a lamination of fervent sweat, flushed a clammy crimson all the way down to his collarbones. And the look in his eyes- oh, Toji was drunk on all the sweet, sweet juices of your pussy.

Half-lidded, woozy, dilated until his gaze was almost all Stygian black - he doesn’t take his stare off of you for even a second as you remove yourself with a sappy pop!

Breath hitching at the way your slick slobbered until it was dripping down his chin, creeping all the way up to Toji’s cheekbones. He grins– and you don’t think you’ve seen Toji look so accomplished, freeing you of your soaked-through dress.

Staring at your nude figure in worship, “How about a bath. Together?”

“Mmm- that sounds…” Your sensitive eardrums crane towards a lowly incanted muttering that came from one side of Toji’s bedroom walls. “-s-sounds…”

He’s instantly raising his thick brows in confusion, brushing away a sliver of sweat away from your face. “You alright, pretty lady?”

Yes. You want to say yes, but the electrified vibrations invading your body say otherwise - and you’re staring at that particular blank wall like a deer in headlights.

Toji couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on, following your beeline of sight towards the edges of the thin wall adjacent to you two - the same one he shared with Ijichi next-door. Ijichi who was scared of you and- oh.

Straining his ears urgently, he’s managing to catch a few snatches of the man’s conversation from the other side-

“-s-strange noises————louder——p-please get rid of-” Overlapping with the constant utterance of something that sounded like a…mantra…

Oh, shit.

He’s snapping his head to you - faint, “No. No no no no–” Fuck, how could he forget? That ‘cleansing’- you were being exorcized in front of his very eyes.

Toji Fushiguro has never moved faster in his entire life than when pins you down on your back and plugs your ears with the knobbled globes of his digits. Blocking out that damn incantation that might have you slipping from his very fingers.

“Don’t listen.” He rasps, watching at the twinkle gleams back in your hazy irises. Mouth crashing into yours, “Don’t listen- please, don’t listen- Stay with me, try not to think of-” But how could you not when the scratchy voice from beyond the wall only seemed to grow more determined, louder?

Shit- a distraction. He needed a distraction.

Suddenly too aware of the way your thighs were trembling around his toned waist, your naked middle rubbed scratchily with the peeking curls of his pubes- you drown out the mantra with a moan.

Your head tilting down-

Baritone growling with a slightly dark glint, his cock sags even heavier out of his pants at your intense stare. “What do you want me to- oh.” Following your line of sight, Toji’s jade eyes twinkle. “Nasty girl.”

Oh, you had the perfect idea to ignore that damn exorcism.

The trilling mewl that escapes your lips is nothing short of music to his ears once he’s tightening his vice-like hold on you and forcing your eyes permanently onto where his big, leaking cock was pulsing for attention.

Red and huge.

Swollen so tautly that it was bobbing from above his waistband, the chilling bedroom air making precum weep out in stringy splatters and hit right on the bullseye of your hole sloppily.

“So much precum…” he’s muttering to himself.

He was so ridiculously big that it made you thighs tremble - and not with fear over the happenings next door anymore, the incantations still distantly resounding.

“Take it then-” Distraction or not- this was a wet dream he’d been having ever since he moved here. He’s letting his throat tear with a primal growl, “Take it all- feel it, n’ you better only think about my fucking cock.” A lecherous idea pops into his head, “N’ you better count.”

It takes you all of one second - and two direct smacks of his fatly bludgeoning cockhead on your dripping mound for you to finally understand what he meant. Oh.

Round and pretty, Toji’s blushing a ruby red at this strawberry divot. Plump against your puffed-up pussylips, he’s angling his hips to position the curvaceous mushroom tip against your flooded entrance. Rubbin’ up and down your slippery slit sweetly-

“Count.”

“O-one.” Your sweet voice is enunciated with a quiet whimper, watery eyes slipping down to make note of every one of his branding, mazing veins. One twisted cozily around his base, one pounding near his split-ended tip. He wanted you to count his inches. Each and every one. “Two- three.”

With a smoky moan, Toji’s throwing his crown back- forehead slicking with a thin lamination of sweat at those pretty noises drawing out of you. “Mhmmm, good girl. K-keep going.”

Stretching you open so wiiiide, that you were temporarily stupid. His left-leaning cock was positively covered in curling veins, snagging and snagging your gummy walls they were molding to his hugely rotund circumference.

He cracks open one heavy eyelid to watch the way you gawked downwards, “Four- no, five.” One hand carefully letting go of your ears- the incantations growing fainter, he flies it down to his squelching wet length, fap! fap! fapping! it just to try and fit.

You’re pausing momentarily to ogle the flexing ripples of his working biceps.

“Talk- fuck, talk. Could cum from just the sound of that ngh- voice of yours, pretty lady.”

“Six…”

Sploshing out a heaping pile of pre somewhere into your heated core simply by the way you talked. It pat-pat-pats down in goopy, translucent dewdrops that slither to the saccharine bottom of your pussy.

He’s twisting his fingers to scratch that carnal itch on the line between his stimulated balls, probing you with the deeply rounded underside of his crown. Deeper. Deeper. Thighs shaking, breath harrowing, ears popping- a steady line of perspiration drips down his temples at the way he touched your walls with a final, filthy vein peeking out at you from underneath. “Yeahhh–? And? C’mon l-let me in–”

You’re gasping, “Seven-”

Oh- it was almost like a countdown for Toji but in reverse.

A countdown until his sanity snapped, and he was crawling a hand midway down your tummy. The mountains of his palm massaging your front when he pumps his hips a few sultry millimeters back and pushes-

Bottoming out.

“Ten–” Your mouth cracks open into a goopy mess as the remaining rest of his inches shovel ruthlessly inside you. Second high of the night hitting you like a truck, “Ten.”

He gasps at the way you’re cumming already. Already.

“Ten.” Toji echoes in a slight hiccup, heftily-lidded gaze roaming over the stout hill he was drilling into you. The outline where his crowned head was smooching the mushed sponge of your cervix, digging in deep. And if he sprinkled out just a singular jetstream of cum early then- well, he was only glad that you were too fucked dumb to notice the second skin of sap cascading down your walls.

“All the way…” He’s cooing at the way you twitch n’ whimper as he draws an invisible line up, up, up and down from the tip top of your cunt to your cylindrical bump. “-to your heart.”

Ten entire inches.

Toji starts to move in short, rapid little thrusts to batter the your cervix with a cratering circle of his cock tip. The bulging girth of his fat sides sensually giving your g-spot repeated hits, “Biiig stretch- isn’t it, pretty lady?”

“Hngh- y-yes—” You moan at the sloppy spanks, frothing out bursts of creamy buttery pre cum from the space between your puckered hole. Still oh-so-gone with the embers of your last orgasm.

Gasping, when his crownhead slopes in and out minutely - he’s so damn big that even that makes your hips thrash stupidly.

“Now now, what did I hah- tell ya about that damn f-fucking runnin’.” Toji grunts, watching as your folds throb palpably. Pinning you down with the ridges of his chiselled abs, one hand pulls you to him by your hips. “Won’t let you run. Breathe girl- breeeeathe n’ take it all.”

“B-breathe-” But it was so difficult considering how every mushy bump of his pulsating cock left you gasping for air. Lungs burning with strain-

He’s pinching your flared nostrils and blubbering out a drunken giggle, watching the way your shrieks lilt cutely higher. “See-” Your ears pop! “-see how much better it is when ya ngh- breathe? So take it like a good girl n’ ngh- say it with me, ‘biiig stretch.’”

Folding you like a lawnchair until until your chin hits the jiggling mounds of your tits, you stare dazedly at the way Toji’s eyes flit down to your gulping pussy and dilates. “B-big-”

“No no—” He starts driving into you with thorough, solid inches, reaching tender spots you didn’t even know existed. And you’re ringing the four walls of the room with your trilling wails, “S’a biiig stretch- not a ‘big’ stretch-” Finally cautious enough to dart his second hand down to roll your cloying clit, “-isn’t that right, sugar?”

It was apparent he wasn’t even talking to you anymore, watching your cutely contorting expression as Toji slouches his knees and pushes and pushes.

“Yes- yes yes yes yes–” Your ass stings with the ferocity of his strikes, and Toji’s toned pelvis was already starting to redden with the slamming impact. Babbling, “S’a biiig stretch- a biiig stretch.”

Sleazing a scarred grin when your capped knees start trembling, “Yeah- yeahhh atta girl. My poor baby needs a hah-hand?”

With a ricketing creak–! of your poor knees, you’re being pressed into the sloppiest mating press possible. Your heels digging bruises on his proud shoulder muscles, instinctively clenching ‘round his bustling length. “O-oh my god- fuuuck, Toji-”

“Oh…so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ pretty…” He’s breathing out in a quiet huff that hits your mouth, hungrily lapping up the few stray drops of saliva that string out from your parted lips. Toji’s intense gaze is so adoring that your skin prickles with goosebumps, “Makes me wanna…wanna ngh-”

“Wh-what–?” Your head tumbles back into the scratchy surface of the tatami, urging an answer.

And oh, Toji’s only pounding you harder into the ground in response. Again and again and again until your legs are numb.

Striking your throbbing g-spot with a dead-on whack, whack, whack. So hard that every ramming jackhammer from the curving mound of his red-tipped cockhead to his hilt makes the floorboards tremble.

Feverish. Desperate.

A pornographic groan breaking off from him, “Wanna- wanna ngh- cum inside. Wanna breed this pretty pussy.”

Oh, it’s like something had snapped inside of him. Every gobbling inch vigorous.

Toji’s trembling, thighs jolting- ramming into you so hard that your brain was all stupid with static electricity. And the only thing you could think to do at this very moment was stick your face into his clammy crook and whine- “Please- inside. All inside, Toji.”

“Fuh-fuuuck–”

With those words in mind he’s collapsing his sculptured body on top of yours as if he was shattering, and you’re catching sight of his rounded ballsack flinching dangerously at your targeted words.

Sucking his velveteen lips back into his teeth, one hand twisting on top of your crowned, sweat-matted head to push you down. “I-I’ll pump you so full of hah- cum that you won’t be able to keep it all inside you.” The other twisting on your clit, “Gonna breed you right, sugar.”

And you don’t know who cums first - but it makes you sob.

Your eyes turning pure white as his cock searches deep, deep, deeply to hit the back of your pussy with ribbony knots of cum.

It’s so wet down under, so much seed being pumped into you - just about two or three thick wires glueing to your insides with each passing second - that you’re flooding out. Great, heaping torrents he mercilessly thrusts into you after every one of your high peaks.

“Cum- cum- cum a lot.” Toji gravels out into your buzzing ear, pinching your fragile clit until you’re shattering underneath him. Faster. “Cum. Get- get pregnant with my ngh- child.”

You bawl out belatedly, “Cumming– cumming, Toji- don’t m-miss…”

“Never, pretty lady.” He’s biting down on your lollling bottom lip, larynx scratching with grunt after grunt with every hit. Every plummet of his plummy, cum-candied cockhead turning your brain into melted mush. “Gonna get you pregnant- get-”

Two knobbled fingerpads dip down to plug your leaking hole back full with the glittering globs of cum spilling out of you.

Scarred lips curving into a smile, crazed. “Get pregnant- get–” With a final few slams, he’d milked himself dry and was still aching for more. Pressing down on your bloated tummy bulge of cum, “Ohhh look at th-that, all mixin’ together. All yours.”

You wince, your heart thundering at the way he was making even more of a mess down there to meanly push back into you.

And every lazy, directed pound leaves you gasping for air– Looking down at the dolloping cream, you’re mumbling out a fatigued, “M-mine?”

“That’s right, doll.”

Heart racing, the lights flicker as your spectral powers yield out- and you’d already known that Toji was the only one you’d tie your soul to this way, till the ends of time - immortality for him.

But now was the moment - that burning question finally on your tongue.

“Be mine?”

He leaves a slight smack at the adhesive sheen overtaking your thighs and makes you shake. Eyes half-shuttered, blush burning, maw drooling– Toji throws his head back as his aching tip twitches wildly for a second round. “All yours.”

And it was by the time that your second round turned to thirds, your thirds into fourths- fifths, sixths, fuck- Toji couldn’t even keep track.

It might as well have been a draw.

The only thing he could register was the yolky light of dawn filtering through the windows, and the way that every inch of the bedroom was a mess beyond recognition.

A few holes were made in the neat tatami, his bed broken into splintering pieces, desk shattered.

He now had himself pushed back into the cool wall of the snug closet, restless lower half papping up where your hips were straddling his. Ruined. Toji creeps a hand down the humid skin of your spine and pants, “So f-fucking wet, s’like a damn ngh- water…park…”

His sluggish eyes flap and fight to stay open, words sluuurring - and so do his hips.

“T-Toooji—” You drag out like a broken record, your hands resting precariously on his bulky deltoids. Scrambling to swivel n’ swivel in lazy hearts and circles, drool dripping out of you like a waterfall from both ends. “More- ngh moooore.”

“Holy shit- what sorta s-stamina, doll-”

Though, he really wasn’t complaining. Not when Toji lets his sweat-dropped head hit the back of the wall with a gruff call of your name, aching red cock loading out just a few more wispy strings of sap.

“Yours. Yours yours yours-” He whimpers- whimpers. Head spinning once you’re huffing out a pout and swerving your hips in a sexy figure eight, bouncing ever-so-slightly to milk him dry. “Stainin’ me all nghhh- white n’ creamy.”

A soft spank on the tippy-top of your clit makes you see stars - cheek nuzzling his own and Toji thinks it’s so cute.

“C-cute?”

Oh, shit, did he say that out loud?

Judging by the twitching corners of your lips, he’d said that part out loud, too. “Mhm– k-keepin’ me hostage. Squeeze me like that n’ I’ll- ohhh- one hell of a ngh- woman.”

By this point, the inflated bulge at your tummy was jiggling with each plap! of skin stickily slamming down onto skin. You’re whimpering as you start veering into fatigued grinds instead, scraping the outside of your clit down on his drenched happy trail.

“Tha’s right- fuuuuck, gimme those h-hips- those damn birthin’ hips, my lady.” His vision muddles with a few tears, and Toji has to grasp your neck to keep guidin’ your cunt to that pinpointed target of his tender inches. Big, fat cock sending shots of electricity darting along his veins, “Squeeze me t-tighter.” Fingers getting tighter, “Tighter- c’mon g-grind those ngh- pretty hips a lil’ bit.”

“L-like this–?”

He’s using up all his strength to bounce his knees - heart stuttering just as much as his words were. Toji could barely feel his spasming pink tip, “Back and f-forth- back n’ forth back n’ forth–”

You’re letting yourself be manhandled like some glorified doll, your slurping walls sucking the soul out of him with every swash of that weighty cum jostling inside of you. “P-please.”

Ah, and that was all it took a thoroughly overstimulated Toji to keen out yet another wringing orgasm. Though, this time filling your swampy cunt up with nothing but a few twitches and jolts, he’s cumming dry– still fucking up into you like he was pumping you with severe bouts of seed.

“Pregnant-” He’s rasping out mindlessly, parched. “Preg- ngh! Gonna breed you all pregnant, sugar…” The syllables tumbling out like a babbling mantra.

And that was when the final shreds of his rationality spark, tear-polished lashes fluttering as he listens intently beyond your four walls. Only to discover…nothing.

No mantras.

No exorcism.

Nothing taking you away from him.

“Scared off, huh?” Toji catches your eye and smirks, “Hope they heard.”

You giggle, “You’re a sick man.”

“M’your sick man.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

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