#but i let myself be dragged by the cuteness...
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Stupid (Spencer Reid)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: You wanted his attention. Now you had it.
Rating: Mature 18+ only
Warnings: Public sexiness, Reid is a meanie and uses a bullet vibrator, oral (m receiving), degrading, public sex, unprotected sex (guys plz be safe), Reid curses (it is a warning so don't even)
Words: 1.2k
Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist
AN: This story is mainly for @reidgif I hope you like it!
The buzzing sounds was satisfying to Spencer’s ears. Though not as much as your whimpers and quiet moans.
His fingers play with the feel of the remote of the bullet vibrator in his hand, eyes glued to the case file that he was reviewing.
“Spencer…”
“I am not moving. I told you earlier when you decided to so desperately get my attention and be a brat in front of the others, that you were going to be punished.” His dark eyes flicked from the report to where you were standing by the suspect board. “Now you need to keep working or we will never get to go back to the hotel.”
You let out a sob but turned back to the white board and lifted your hand to shakily write something on it. You knew that when you dragged Spencer on a “lunch break” only to want to eat him.
“Oh fuck,” Spencer moaned, his hands gripping your hair as he guided your head up and down his cock, “you are going to be in so much trouble later, you fucking inpatient slut.”
All you could do was moan around him, not caring at the moment what was coming later. All you wanted was him. To feel him. The taste of him on your tongue.
Your eyes met his, teary and cheeks hollowing out, propelling him towards his climax until he came in your mouth, giving you the “lunch” you wanted.
Now here you were, in a (thankfully) empty precinct, underwear sitting on the table and a bullet vibrator inside you going at a slow steady pace.
There would be times you would get used to the slow vibration, thinking you could work peacefully, but Spencer was attuned to you and would crank the dial higher, dropping you to your knees in a moaning mess, the pulsing pushing your close and closer to a high you so desperately wanted, one you had been denied for an hour now, only for him to quickly turn it back to the dull buzz.
“I think he is specifically targeting women with blonde hair.” You were able to squeak out something, surprised with yourself that you were able to make it through the sentence without losing yourself.
Spencer let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver up your spine since he was much closer then he was before. When did he get up?
“I can’t believe this has rendered you this stupid,” His finger bumps up the vibration once, a whimper escaping your throat, “since that was something we already knew. Anyone with eyes could tell that they are all blondes.”
“B but-”
“Don’t you even finish that sentence.” Spencer rolled his eyes, stepping back from you and started moving some of the papers from the conference table. “I don’t want to hear it from a crybaby like you. You are so lucky you are so cute because if I had known how stupid you were, I would have just done this myself.”
You knew he didn’t mean the words he was saying, but right now you almost did believe him. You were so horny and wet that it didn’t matter about the case, as horrible as that may seem.
“I might as well get something out of being here with you. Get over here and bend over.”
If you were in your right mind, you would have been embarrassed with how fast you complied with his order. The coolness of the conference table feels amazing against the flush of your skin.
Spencer let out a cruel laugh at your eagerness, but didn’t say anything. No, instead he cracked the bullet up as far as it could go.
A scream ripped from you, the feeling a blessing and a curse, driving you physically up the conference table and sensually closer to your end. Your legs shaking and the only thing holding you up was Spencer’s hand on your lower back, his gentle touch contrasting with the harshness of his actions and words.
“God look at you. Crying from how good that feels huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? My attention? Well guess what you fucking slut,” He leaned in close, his weight pressing you into the table, his sent filling your head, “You have it.”
Whines and cries fill the room, the best thing Spencer has ever heard as you finally are forced to let go of the tension coiling in your gut. Curses flying past your lips as well as his name.
If anyone just so happened to come into the precinct now, they would know exactly what was happening and who was making you feel this good.
Spencer pulled the bullet out of your cunt by the string, throwing it behind him and not even bothering to turn it off. Slumping against the table, bliss completely deafening you to the sound of Spencer undoing his belt.
Next thing you knew your leg was being lifted up to rest on the table and the blunt head of his cock was pressing into you, one swift thrust filling you to the brim.
“Oh shit!” You cry, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks.
Spencer groaned, his lips coming to kiss the back of your neck and up to your ear, his facial hair lightly tickling you. “You are so wet. Feels so good.”
That was the nicest thing he has said to you all day.
Drawing back just enough for his tip to be the only thing inside, you could feel his smirk and knew that the one kind word was the only thing you were getting out of him tonight. He snapped his hips, driving completely into you again.
He repeated this over and over, harsher with each thrust he drove into you. It was so good that all you could do was moan and drool against the table.
His laugh filled the room alongside the other sounds. “Look at you! So cockstupid that you would let me do absolutely anything I wanted. Who’s pussy is this?”
When you didn’t, couldn’t, answer him, Spencer gripped your hair, tugging you back to him and the new angle had him hitting that spot that made you see spots.
“Answer me. Come on. I know you can do it. Who’s. Pussy. Is this?” He accentuated every word with a deep thrust into you.
“Yours! Spencer, all yours!”
“Good girl.”
His thrusts continued assaulting you, pressing and pushing you into the table and into him. All you could feel was Spencer. All you could care about at the moment was Spencer.
“Oh shit.” He cursed, his blunt nails digging into your hips as he cums, painting your walls white.
Spencer stilled for a moment. You whimper and wiggle your hips for him, silently begging him to continue since you were so close. But you should have seen this next part coming. Didn’t make it any less horrible when he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his pants.
“No!” You cry. “Please please Spencer!”
“I’m tired and going back to the hotel. You coming?”
He smirked and you glowered at his double entendre. “Yes I am.”
“Not without me, my stupid girl.”
With that Spencer grabbed your panties, showing you that he was not even going to let you put them back on, and strode out of the conference room.
“Brats don’t get to cum. Maybe you will learn.”
(Banners by cafekitsune)
#spencer reid#mgg#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#mgg smut#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds smut
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deal - cl16 (43/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3.5k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.
When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously.
“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”
“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”
Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”
Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her.
“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room.
Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”
You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”
“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”
“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”
Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?”
The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”
“And what was the stake?”
Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”
A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”
Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine.
“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine.
You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”
Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”
You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”
Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”
“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses.
Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.
“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”
You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"
“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”
With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”
“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door. ”You coming?”
You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”
Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”
You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”
Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead.
“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway.
Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”
You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”
“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”
You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”
The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”
“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”
Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”
You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood.
“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”
“We didn't.”
“But you did something.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”
You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”.
Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot.
You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell.
When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.
“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it.
“Everything's fine,” you smile.
He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”
“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer.
Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.
Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”
Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him.
Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”
As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you.
Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you.
“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face.
“What do you mean?”
You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”
“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.”
“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”
Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”
You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”
“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”
“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”
When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box.
“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed.
“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you.
“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.
You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”
Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”
Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless.
“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly.
You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror.
“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you.
“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”
You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard.
Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin.
His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple.
“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more.
When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”
With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses.
Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner.
“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully.
The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier.
“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”
“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”
The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”
“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”
Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”
Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”
Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”
You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”
While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress.
“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”
You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”
“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”
Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall.
The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show.
You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.
“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.
You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”
“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps.
You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”
He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively.
“It would be rude to cancel now.”
“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”
You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”
“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”
His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”
“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”
As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.
“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark
Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x yn#charles leclerc x reader smut#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic
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lend an arm
summary: you’re a mechanic who sevika refused to work with until one day she comes back with her arm ripped off
a/n: idk if the title makes sense but it’s a play on lend a hand but yk,,, she lost her whole arm😋
tags: fluff, banter, mention of hooking up, less spicy than i thought it was gonna be whoops, smoking
ty anon for the request!!!
ao3 version
when you were hired as silco’s handyman, you imagined you would be working with sevika a lot to add upgrades to her arm, fix her arm after combat, etc. etc.
nope.
quite the opposite. you were met with the cold shoulder every time, a gruff out ‘i can do it myself’ before she stomps off to the corner of silco’s office to tinker with her arm. you’re sure there’s a masturbation joke there somewhere, but you haven’t quite thought of a clever enough one to say aloud.
did you hook up with her a few times? yes. was it your proudest moment? no, but damn was it good.
given that, most of your time was spent with jinx, albeit sometimes more than you’d like. you love the girl to bits, but sometimes she can be a bit… much. still, you liked her music taste and you got on well enough, not to mention her inventions were quite clever, not that you’d ever say it to her; she's already got quite the ego.
still, the blue haired girl was still family or whatever you’d call it. you knew she was still sneaking into her lab and pretended to be none the wiser, but you’re pretty sure that she knew you knew.
although sevika refused your help, you couldn’t help but notice how she’d glance up every time she tweaked something on her arm, as if she were searching for approval from you. you’d make eye contact with her and glance down at what she’d fixed, giving an approving nod or shaking your head depending on what she did. each time you nodded, you’d swear you saw a blush creep up her ears. if you shook your head though, she’d scowl and vigorously undo her work and redo it until either she was satisfied with it or look to get your approval again. it was a cute little game you two would play, but you knew you’d be able to make the fixes about 10x faster if she would only let you.
and the silco died.
with nowhere else to go and determined not going to join any side in the turf war for the lanes, that left you the last drop where you’d been sleeping on the couch in his old office. damn, you still couldn’t believe that he was gone. sure he was an asshole most of the time, but he was one of the people and at least tried to keep give shithole of the undercity some sort of organization.
whatever, at least his couch was comfy.
you were tinkering with one of jinx’s old chompers in silco’s office when sevika came barreling in. you jumped a bit from the slam of the door and looked at the panting figure in the doorway. she had her poncho covering the front of her body, but the lumpiness under the cloth alarmed you that something was wrong. she wordlessly walked past you and threw her poncho off to the side, revealing her flesh arm holding her mechanical arm under her armpit. the gears sticking out of the stump of her mechanical arm told you that someone had ripped it out, and she was pissed.
she slammed her arm on the table and grumbled to herself, grabbing a flathead screwdriver from the table of her former boss’ desk. she stabbed the head in and cursed under her breath, muttering something about a ‘pink haired brat’ as she attempted to fix her mechanical limb. she spent a good 10 minutes trying to fix the arm with her one good hand. you minded your business and kept your eyes on your book, studying about the latest technology in the upper city, hextech.
until you heard it. she sighed and turned around, leaning her back against the table, saying something quietly in your direction. you lifted your head and tilted it questioningly to the side, “what was that?”
sevika huffed and dragged her hand down her face, “can you fix my arm?”
a small grin crept up your lips, oh you were gonna have fun with this, “what’s the magic word?”
sevika deadpanned at you and rolled her eyes, but was too tired to argue, “…please.”
you clapped your hands together and happily stood up, “yes! i’ve been waiting for this!”
you basically pushed her aside as you quickly got to work on her arm, trying to undo as much damage as you could. after about an hour, you were able to restore basic function in the arm, but one good punch could make the whole thing fall apart all over again. you straightened up and looked around the room to see where she had gone, you really fell into your own world as you worked. looking around, you saw her on the couch fixated down, the same area where your ass had been only moments before. you cleared your throat which seemed to snap her out of her trance, her head snapping up to meet your eyes.
you held her arm up and gestured for her to come over. she scrambled up to meet you at your side, holding her arm out expectantly. brushing past her, you attached her arm back on with a satisfying ‘click’ at it latched into place. you took a step back to let her adjust to it again. she clenched her hand into a fist and turned her hand over, admiring your handiwork. she hummed in approval and looked down at you with a glint of respect in her eyes that you’d never seen before.
“that should do for now, but you’ll probably need a new arm if you don’t want to get your ass beat,” you smirked as you dusted off your hands off on your pants.
“thought that you fixed it?,” she said with a raised eyebrow. her tone was meant not in an attacking manner, but more curiosity on the actual damage of her arm.
“i’m a mechanic, not a miracle worker,” you chided, crossing your arms over your chest.
sevika raised her arms in relinquishment, a half smirk gracing her lips, “easy princess, ‘meant no offense to your skills.”
“uh huh,” you responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you patted her shoulder.
she sighed and looked down, glancing back up at you in reluctance, “what i meant was… thank you.”
you raised your eyebrows in surprise, but smiled at the sentiment, “you’re welcome, i just wish i could’ve helped more earlier.”
“earlier?” she asked in a neutral tone, taking a cigarette out of her pocket and putting it in the corner of her mouth, lighting it with one hand while she cupped around her mouth with the other. she took a quick drag and blew the smoke away from you, letting the cigarette rest lazily between her fingers.
“y’know, before silco died. if you had let me work on your arm and upgrade it, it probably wouldn’t have broken in the first place,” you said matter-of-factly, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and taking a puff, purposefully blowing it towards her.
“my arm was fine, it was just this one time,” she responded gruffly, taking another drag from the cigarette. you shrugged and glanced over her arm, subconsciously making sure that every part was working as it should.
“…where the hell should i get a new arm?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could, but a little more waiver of worry still came through in her voice.
you looked up at her and grinned, pointing up, “the answer is closer than you think.”
she looked up and jumped a little seeing the blue haired girl, “jesus jinx.”
nothing made sevika jump, she must’ve really been on edge with silco’s death.
jinx giggled and shook her head, “fine, but i want complete creative control.”
sevika sighed defeatedly and looked at you for any sort of help, which of course you gave none.
“fine.”
#arcane#arcane jinx#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika#reader x sevika#sevika fluff#arcane season 2#arcane fan fic#strawberrykidneystone writes#strawberrykidneystone
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Pampering
You take care of Logan.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
Logan didn’t get sick. His healing factor made sure of that. In fact, he was practically immune to just about everything. Which was why it was nearly impossible for you to fuss over him. He’d been the one to take care of you plenty of times—carrying you to bed when you were too exhausted to move or making you soup when you were under the weather. But when he staggered in after his latest mission, blood staining his suit and a limp in his step, you decided it was your turn to play nurse.
"I’m fine," Logan grumbled, his hand pressed to his lower back as he tried to shake off the obvious discomfort. "Just need to lie down."
You crossed your arms, fixing him with a stern look. "You don’t look fine," you replied, glancing pointedly at the gash on his shoulder and the streak of dried blood running down his leg. "You look like you tried to fight a lawnmower and lost."
Logan huffed, a hint of his usual stubbornness flashing in his eyes. "It’s just a scratch, darlin’," he said, attempting to brush past you. But the wince that escaped his lips betrayed him, and he immediately regretted it when he saw the determined look on your face.
"Oh no, you don’t," you shot back, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his chest to halt his progress. "You’re going straight to the bathroom, or so help me, I’ll drag you in there myself."
Logan raised an eyebrow at your tone—more serious than he was used to. "I don’t think you could, sweetheart," he said, trying to add a bit of his usual gruffness to soften the moment. "But I’d like to see you try."
You narrowed your eyes at him, your hands planted on your hips. "Don’t test me, Logan," you warned, your voice firm but gentle. "Get your stubborn butt in the bathroom. Now."
Logan let out a defeated sigh, but there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze as he finally relented. "Alright, alright," he grunted. "Guess I’m not in the mood to be dragged, anyway."
As you guided him into the bathroom, Logan grumbled under his breath, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped just a bit now that he wasn’t putting on a show. You turned on the tap, letting the warm water fill the tub, steam rising up to fog the mirror.
"Get in," you ordered softly, turning back to face him. "You need to soak. It'll help with the soreness."
Logan gave you a skeptical look but started to strip off his tattered suit anyway, his movements stiff and slow. He climbed into the tub, the hot water hitting his skin and making him flinch before he sank down with a low, relieved groan. The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt almost immediately, his head leaning back against the edge.
You knelt beside the tub, grabbed a washcloth, and dipped it into the water. "You know, I don’t get to take care of you very often," you said, your tone softening as you gently ran the cloth over his chest, washing away the dried blood and grime. "It’s kind of nice… me being the one to fuss over you for a change."
Logan grunted, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you through the steam. "I ain’t used to all this pamperin’," he mumbled, though his voice lacked its usual gruffness. "Not sure how I feel about it."
You dabbed at a cut on his shoulder, your touch tender and slow. "Well, get used to it," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "Because I’m not stopping until I’m sure you’re in one piece again."
He huffed softly, but there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been there a moment ago. "You’re wastin’ your time," he murmured, though he leaned into your touch as you wiped away another streak of dried blood. "You know I’ll be patched up in no time."
"I know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you worked your way down his arm, tracing the muscles there with the cloth. "But until then, I’m going to make sure you feel as good as new." You dipped the cloth in the water again and brushed it over his face, smoothing the tension lines from his brow. "Besides," you added with a smirk, "you look kind of cute when you’re not scowling."
Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his eyes softening as they met yours. "Cute, huh?" he muttered, his voice low and rumbling. "Ain’t exactly what I’m goin’ for."
You chuckled, leaning in a little closer as you squeezed the water out of the washcloth over his shoulder. "Well, you’re just going to have to live with it," you teased, "because I’m calling the shots tonight."
He closed his eyes for a moment, his hand reaching out of the water to find yours. "Guess I could let you win this one," he said, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "But don’t get used to it."
"Oh, believe me, I won’t," you replied with a grin, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "This is a rare occurrence, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."
You continued to wash him as Logan’s grumbles softened into contented silence. He sank deeper into the tub, his body relaxing under your care, and the hint of a smile never left his lips. It wasn’t often that he let his guard down like this, and you couldn’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction at the sight of him—finally letting someone take care of him, if only for a little while.
As you traced the washcloth gently over his arm again, you felt his hand tighten around yours just slightly, like a silent thank you. It was enough to tell you that even if Logan wasn’t good at admitting he needed this, he was grateful to have you there—looking after him in the way that only you could.
#fluff#logan howlett#wolverine#x men logan#x men wolverine#james logan howlett#marvel#hugh jackman#logan x fem!reader#logan x fem you#x men#days of future past#professor logan#professor reader#wolverine fluff#fluff and romance#one shot#established relationship#logan xmen#logan wolverine#the wolverine#james howlett#banter#softie logan#soft logan#fem reader
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⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿ RANDOM ASTROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS ✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
IMO, Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn Rising are so sexually attractive. They are sooo hot, and not just only physically but their aura, and presence is very strong and intense that it makes an individual feel so uneasy In their space. Very magnetic, irresistible people 🥵
Sagittarius and Gemini Mercury natives are extremely blunt with their words they don’t sugarcoat nothing.
Gemini Mars, Venus make you feel so weak in the knees just by hearing the words that come exit out of their mouths. These people can literally make you go crazy and even orgasm just because of how charming and seductive these people can communicate. Very flirtatious and big dirty talkers.
Virgo placements can be very critical, and picky people. My ex best friend is a Virgo Sun and had tendencies to become very judgmental, critical, and even picky. I remember times when she would make fun of people and laugh at them indirectly like it was that funny without knowing the context behind what she is judging 😬 if that makes sense. But some Virgos adapt these qualities but it depends on where it is placed in their chart, so different cases are possible 🤷🏽♀️ (I’m a Virgo Mars and I can be very picky when it comes to allowing guys into my life. and even the sexual aspect of it. I am very picky and particular on how I present myself )
No offense but Libra placement’s especially Libra Suns and sometimes Libra Asc, can be huge pick me’s, attention seekers, and even people pleasers, and a handful I’ve noticed likes to speak highly of themselves in a way of bragging about themselves or things in general :/ ( Take this with a grain salt babes we all have negative traits)
Cancer/Scorpio moons = mommy issues. Especially moon 8th house
Venus/ Mercury in the second and third house have very beautiful voices speaking or singing or even both
People loooooveeee to sexualize and slut shame Scorpionic/Lilith women especially Pluto/Lilith first house, tenth house. Pluto- Asc, Lilith-Asc applies.
Taurus/Scorpio placements tend to be quiet and reserved, observant people. But one thing i love about these individuals is that they secretly love drama. If there is drama at the job they would most definitely be secretly invested. These people are the type of people that secretly spill the tea, and you’ll look at them like “how do you know?” But do not drag them into a huge mess because they are very drama free people.
POV: a Taurus/Scorpio people secretly observing the drama and tea 🥸
Aquarius/Gemini rising, Venus, and MC how does it feel to be trendsetter. How does it feel when people copy you guys because of how creative you guys are hm? (Copycat impersonator indicator ‼️)
Leo’s are my icons. Leo’s literally remind me of a cheetah or leopard for some reason maybe because they are so feisty and fiery animals 🐆and these native embodies that type of energy. You guys tend have a feline type of beauty too. Leo’s and Aries women are also Regina George coded 💋 (Asc,Venus,Mars,Sun)
Taurus, Libra, Cancer, Pisces Mercury are the type of people that cuss you out nicely, politely and gracefully 🎀 they even say “fuck off bitch”so elegantly and cute 🤭
⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿ ⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿
My very first astrological observations/post I hope this resonated and let me know if u liked it🤍💋
#astrology observations#future spouse astrology#astro observations#18+ astrology#astrology#scorpio#gemini#regina george
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(aaaa im feeling silly now! thank you! 😊💖) so i was thinking about a douma x reader in which douma is quite bored but reader finds a way to cheer him up by giving him a blowjob (i imagine douma initially oblivious to what the reader is going to do, then he goes full "(・o・)" when realizing what it was about, i think it would be so cute!! but still, do as you wish! ;^] )
i'm so inexperienced with writing blowjobs but i hope you still like it T_T (btw reader is also an upper rank/demon)
douma lets out a low groan, golden hair tangled and scrunched up between his long, pale fingers as he drags out another dramatic sigh. you look up from your book, confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you look at the demon.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, closing your book shut. douma scoots closer to you, his head falling onto your shoulder. “oh, i'm just so, so bored, y/n! i don’t know what to do with myself.” you roll your eyes. you're going to behead this bastard soon. you give him an unimpressed look and douma pouts at you in return. “take your temper tantrum somewhere else. you’re bothering me.”
“c’monnn,” douma whines, wrapping his big arms around you. this man has no sense of personal space. “y/n, i’m so bored, come play with me,” he cries in your ear and you look at him with disgust. “no,” you say, forcefully shoving him. “go bother someone else.”
douma almost looks like a sad puppy and you find it weirdly cute. he looks like all his hopes and dreams have been crushed by your palms and you feel slightly bad for him. when douma gets up to leave, defeated, you yank his arm down and shove him on the cold wooden floor, crawling on top of him. damn you, douma. “fine,” you give in, “what do you want to do?”
you swear you saw his rainbow eyes light up at that and he's grinning happily like an idiot. “well, i was thinking of feasting on some-” douma abruptly stops himself when he feels you palm his crotch. “what’re you- oh.”
"is this not what you wanted?" you ask, feeling him through his pinstriped pants. he feels so fucking big in your hand despite being flaccid and you rub your thighs together. you smile to yourself when you see douma's flushed face, still visibly confused, his legs subconsciously spreading for you. "w-what?" well this is certainly unexpected.
“i'm playing with you, aren't i?” you murmur, teasing his length through the fabric. he's actually so pathetic right now, and you laugh at the wet patch on his pants caused by his leaking tip. he lifts his hips up for you as you peel his pants off of him, revealing his semi hard dick, oozing with precum.
“you have such a pretty cock, douma,” you admit, wrapping your fingers around his flushed, throbbing length. you slide your hand up and down, using the copious amounts of precum that's coming out of his slit to help with your movement. douma’s mind slips into oblivion as you give him painfully good, slow strokes.
douma has never thought you were the kind of demon to do this. of course, he always found you to be quite attractive, and well, yes, he's had one or two fantasies about you before, but he never thought that this would actually happen between you two. much less you the one who's initiating it. he’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t even realize you're leaning down to take his dick in your mouth. his back arches beautifully when he finally feels the heat of your wet mouth, pretty lips wrapped around and sucking on his cock like they were made for it.
douma shamelessly moans and pants as you start sucking on the tip, tongue swirling around the head and probing at the slit. he's fucking soaked and you wonder when was the last time he felt the touch of someone. the bitter taste he's leaking everywhere in your mouth has your eyebrows knitted, but you don't mind. you move your head forward to envelop more for his dick, your tongue tracing a prominent vein. fuck, douma wants nothing more than to stuff your face full of his dick right now, but he's not greedy. he doesn't mind you taking your time, considering how big he is.
“fuck, y/n...” douma groans softly, grabbing a fistful of your hair and slowly thrusting up into your mouth, shoving more and more of his length down your throat. you moan, your free hand already reaching down to rub your heat, touching yourself to the sound of douma's voice. “so good, so good,” douma gasps, biting his lips. “you're such a good cocksucker for me, y/n.”
douma fucking drools at the sight of you touching yourself, and his dick throbs painfully inside your mouth. you're such a fucking slut. not that he's complaining, he loves it. plus, he's not bored anymore.
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I'm feelin soft 🥲
(Please click for better quality!!)
#drag's art#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#huskerdust#been a minute since I did a cute doodle of these two so ✨✨#I've done several neatly lined/coloured things in the past couple days#and it's putting me back in the 'everything Must Be Perfect' mode#so I'm forcing my hand into messier doodles again lmao 😭#w the compromise of letting myself colour. cause that's my fave part and I get sad if I can't render things for a while 💀#1k
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Thank you so much to all of you who helped me find back these twenty seconds of interview when Ben mentioned the release of 11:11 and his adventures in a graveyard!
Update on the fic it was for...
This is an actual footage of me writing the fic:
Me, reads the list of requests and chooses one : Oh, that sounds cute. And it shouldn't take too long, maybe a couple of scenes, let's do that. I should be able to finish it in a few hours.
Also me, 24 hours later, after spending 6 hours looking for this ridiculously unimportant piece of information about Ben, and after writing not 2 but 6 full scenes for this one request : Everything is fine. Everything is under control. I am a normal human being...
The fic that was supposed to be 2k words:
Yes. Yes it should have been a short one...
@simpforhotties I hope you like your fic, because it got completely out of hand!!!
#i think it's very cute though#but i let myself be dragged by the cuteness...#anyway#it'll be posted in the coming two weeks#stay tuned for the next posting schedule coming on 19/06/2023#you guys are amazing for finding back that info thank you so much
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(ʘ‿ʘ) victim blaming isn’t cool. don’t be a hiyoko. (ʘ‿ʘ)
#this. this was the therapist mona scene i remembered and pissed myself off with#top 10 unnecessary remarks made by female leads go—#if you like the anime ~dni~👏👏 if you like anime ‘mona’ ~dni~👏👏#seriously hate how this anime was like ‘oh lmaooooo mona was almost dragged off by some rando against her will… but let’s focus on hiyoko’#poor mona man… she nearly got abducted only for her saviour to go ‘u cute no wonder why the guy wanted u uwu’#mona doesn’t need to be a therapist she *needs* a therapist!!!!!!#heroine tarumono#screw it slapping this with the main tags bc i like to play with fire
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Thinking of hell's sanctuary and gabby arriving for a 3rd time after nearly murdering me and getting faced with the entire sanctuary throwing rocks at him while he keeps trying to say he just wants to talk
#swordsy gave me its actual sword that i am visibly struggling to even drag behind myself when i face gabe again#trying to figure out where the curiosity fits in bc like. canonically his pride wouldn't allow for that 😭#he has questions bc I'm literally Just Some Guy and not like. a charismatic figurehead and maybe That's Just Weird#he resigns himself to trying to talk to me in front of everyone who is holding their rocks back for just a moment#at some point he sees smthn he can't quite place and fumbles his words and leaves immediately#listens to me talk about the sanctuary and partway through is like. huh he is kind of cute WHOOOOO SAID THAT 👀#who said that?? uh oh he hasn't been listening for the past 5 minutes and now has to formulate a response while pretending he was#making him into kind of a goof. neither of us are making any moves#something naturally develops and his catholic guilt will not let him even touch me#i reassuringly pat his shoulder and he nearly goes into shock 😭#star speaks#light of my life 🕊
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❛ TOO SWEET! ❜
geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.
total wc. 3.0k
warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise
an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.
CHOSO ☆ KAMO
“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…
he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”
“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.
choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.
choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.
he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..
it really was that bad…
“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”
“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.
it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”
your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.
one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.
he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.
“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”
“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”
his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.
“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”
SUGURU ☆ GETO
“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”
geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”
“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.
and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.
geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.
“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.
you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.
“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”
he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.
his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.
“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.
the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.
“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.
it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.
his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.
“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.
geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”
NANAMI ☆ KENTO
“sweetheart..”
is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”
“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”
with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.
“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”
“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.
and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”
you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.
he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.
nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”
you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.
his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”
“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”
you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.
one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.
“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.
“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”
FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI
toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care.
the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.
eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.
yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji.
“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.
he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.
“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact.
his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”
and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.
his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.
“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.
his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm.
toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.
slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes.
he came early.
toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.
“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan.
“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.
“say what?”
he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”
“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face
“…you heard me, whore.”
GOJO ☆ SATORU
“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.
the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”
“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.
his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.
“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”
“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”
he was so desperate.
you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.
gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.
his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”
“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.
“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.
gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.
“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.
you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.
he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.
“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.
that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.
“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”
“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.
you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”
“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.
his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”
#★vegasbaby.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#toji smut#choso smut#nanami smut#gojo x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#female reader#choso x reader#tw aphrodisiacs#anime smut#anime x reader#tw sex
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maturing is realizing you are exactly like other girls and realizing how fucking magical that is
#i love girlhood#i love womanhood#i love femininity#i love being feminine#i love sisterhood and shared experiences#i love glitter and pastels#i love dainty things and cute animals#i love stereotypical femininity#i love interpreted femininity#i love bent femininity#i love the way different women preform being a woman#i love how drag queens view women#i love drag#i just. love women#and femininity#and i admire it so much.#i spent so long fearing it and being it#it feels so good to let myself be#i love being a girl!!!!
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would you forgive me if i said i liked clint …
#for context the first time i fainted n got fucked in the mines#i was saved by clint ! and it was like 80 levels down#and went OH you dragged ME? ALL THE WAY UP? uhmmm can i see your muscles#ik in the context of you marrying emily the dialogue doesnt get fixed up#which i dont care . emily is my best friend that performs crystal stuff while i let her despite not believing in it#emily heart scene scaring me . i forgot theyre romantic or whatever . CLINT COME BACK AND SAVE ME#^_^ a lil disappointed new dialogue pushes him further into incel box but whatever the mind is a powerful tool . changes this#volcel (emory) versus incel#i also just like big hairy sweaty men so theres that LMAO#i ALSO CANT BRING MYSELF TO DISLIKE ANY NPC…#the least i care about is prof snail n birdie. i really liked birdies fetch quest tho it was fun but#i did end up searching the entire island before realizing i had to gift it to someone#playing generally blind so its v fun when i figure stuff out from clues like the books in the library :)#hey . this guy is rambling about not clint#i also think hes sorta cute with it i like my freaks and losers and blacksmiths#little steps farm
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SugarBaby!Reader (Neglected!Bat!Sibling) x Tony Stark - Falling in Love
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Someone wanted more fluff of this and I had thoughts about it last night. Tony isn’t my favorite, but I kinda wanted to challenge myself with this and see if I could try it writing some romance.
A/N: Smalltown!Reader is still coming. Pregnant!Reader will be getting a part 2 at some point. Might post another series, the one army dreamer inspired, because why not? Gonna have sooo many WIPs. But, maybe they’ll give y’all some delight.
Warnings: GN!Reader, Mentions of bedroom activities, fluffy, not edited, hardly anything Yandere. Intended to be
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
When you and Tony started dating it had been after he had wooed you at some gala. Something for a long forgotten charity. You had initially been hesitant, knowing his play boy reputation. The one so eerily similar to your father’s Brucie Wayne persona.
Still he was charming, good looking, and had convinced you that one night wouldn’t hurt.
And, it hadn’t. The next day when you were about to crawl out of bed and begin your walk of shame, he had dragged you back. Taking his time repeating the night before and with an encore.
By the time you had finally been allowed to leave the bed, your stomach had let out an embarrassing growl that made your cooling skin flush once more.
Of course, Tony wasn’t going to let anyone he spent such a good time with go hungry. Ordering the two of you room service and a giant spread of breakfast.
It’s in that moment things start to shift. You were a good lay for Tony. A young pretty little thing that was some of the best he had had in a while. (Due to him mellowing out with age, not that he’d ever admit that.) But, it’s the way you look at him, shyly and with such genuine gratitude just for him buying to brunch that makes him stop.
Not pause. Because pause means he’ll end up playing again. And, he’s fairly certain he’s done playing. Because, when you happily sit in his button down shirt, munching on the food he bought you, and listen to him talk about an old project (he wasn’t dumb enough to share anything new he’d been working on) with such bright eyes and enthusiasm he realizes this might be trouble for him. It’s even cuter because he knows you don’t understand a single thing he’s saying, but you’re trying. You’re trying so hard and it’s so cute.
It keeps going on like that. Passionate nights and slow talkative mornings that morph into date nights and fun trips and days lounging together. You’re still honestly convinced it could all end at any moment. Nothing good last in your life. And, despite how desperately you want this to last you know it probably won’t. Still you swear to hold on. To take everything he’ll offers. Even if it’s not much and he leaves you in the end. You’re going to appreciate how full and fulfilled her makes you feel.
For you, you fall in love slow and overtime. It a soft and startling realization when you realize you love Tony. You love him dearly and he could break your heart into a million pieces. But, it would be worth it.
You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Loving him and waiting for him. To leave.
For Tony, it’s similar. He spoils you he does. He loves the way you look at him when he does. But, as he unknowingly starts to settle, the realization that he’s not showing you off in public as much anymore and that he enjoys just being near even when there’s nothing to talk about hits him in the chest. And, in a Tony Stark like fashion, he spirals for a bit.
It causes him to spend three full days in his lab avoiding the world and his problems. Not sleeping, hardly eating, ignoring Jarvis.
When he finally does emerge, he’s covered in sweat and grease. He aches. He’s tired. He’s irritable. His fully expecting you to be mad he missed your fancy date he had planned. But, when he looks up at you and see’s that exact same grateful look in your eyes, it clicks. You give him that same look of gratitude and adoration every time he does something for you. He’s not doing anything other than being here with you. And, that’s enough for you. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you. And your willing to love him as his is and with what ever he gives.
Tony doesn’t confess though. To cliche. Instead he proposes. With no ring, no plan, and covered in grease. But, completely serious. It isn’t long until you understand he really means it, that he wants you for you and you’re leaping in his arms crying, yes. Yes. And the. You tell him to shower, because despite the love you feel and your happiness, he smells ripe.
He chases you around instead, before dragging you into the shower with him.
It isn’t until you both have a small private court house ceremony and he’s dragging you on to a luxury honeymoon that he leans over and confesses. Casually. Like it was a stray fact.
“Oh, hey, by the way, I love you.”
It makes you squawk that he has the audacity to do such a thing, but you lean into him and say it back.
“I love you, too… Silly old man.”
“Hey! That’s not what you were saying when I-“
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You hadn’t even thought about you family with Tony. Hadn’t thought to invite them to the wedding. You did call Alfred as soon as you got back though. Telling him the good news with so much happiness that the old Bulter cried when the call ended. You had sounded radiant, and it broke his heart.
Broke his heart that no one in the family had seen just how beautiful your joy was and that they had never bothered to cause it.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Based off this ask.
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#platonic batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#tony stark#tony stark x reader#marvel x reader#marvel#sugar baby!reader
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hi! it’s me
i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)
like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?
(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)
xoxo,em! take care
Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)
How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋
Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.
SATORU GOJO
Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.
The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.
Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:
"Do you like it?"
Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.
"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.
"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.
Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.
"S-Satoru, baby?"
You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.
"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.
You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"
"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."
Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?"
He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"
You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.
Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.
"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.
"Huh?"
"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you.
You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent.
Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit.
“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.
“It's just a tattoo....”
“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–
"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..."
He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.
"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"
You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high.
"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"
CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵
NANAMI KENTO
He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.
"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times.
"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"
"I do."
"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"
"I see."
Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."
Silence and more close observation.
You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...
Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.
"K-Ken?"
"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"
You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.
"Nanami."
"... Do you still have the lipstick?"
"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."
"Lend it to me, darling."
With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.
“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”
“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?”
He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it.
You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss.
Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.
“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”
His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.
"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."
His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.
“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”
You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.
“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”
A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him.
“You have yourself a deal, baby."
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CHOSO KAMO
Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.
It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.
"Shit, just go away."
He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy.
And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-
Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-
"C-Choso?"
His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -
"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.
Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.
Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him.
Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.
But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.
Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.
“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”
Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.
“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-”
You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs.
“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”
“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”
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SUGURU GETO
“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself. Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.
“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you. “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”
Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.
“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”
Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—
“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good? Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”
“…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”
One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”
“S-Sorry…”
Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.
“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”
“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.
“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”
And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.
Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.
Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.
“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”
“Y-You think?”
Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.
“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.
“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”
“….-Own?”
And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.
“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”
“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”
Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started.
“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.”
His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”
He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.
Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.
“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”
“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….”
Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.
Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.
“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”
A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.
Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.
“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.
You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.
“Starving.”
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RYOMEN SUKUNA
The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes.
You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you.
“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”
Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.
“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.
“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"
"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"
"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"
You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"
"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"
"Which is?"
"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."
“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—
Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.
Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.
You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.
“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”
His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.
Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.
"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."
“Jerk.”
He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.
CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵
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wind breaker boys - cockwarming headcanons.
featuring: Hajime Umemiya, Ren Kaji, Jo Togame
contains: f!reader, cockwarming (ofc), established relationship, pure smut
note: all characters are aged up to 18+!
MDNI | 18+ content
Masterlist
Hajime Umemiya loves cockwarming.
Sometimes he’ll pull you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his, as he helps you to slowly work his thick cock inside you. Umemiya is heavy on praise, eyes kind as he tells you how well you’re taking him. He thinks the way you furrow your brows and bite your bottom lip, so intent on taking him right to the base is so, so cute.
Once you’re nestled comfortably on top of him, his fat mushroom tip snug against your cervix, he’ll hold you there. Umemiya’s grip is hard on your hips as he stops you from moving.
“Just stay here, baby. Just like this,” he says, capturing your lips in a kiss.
So you do. His cock throbs inside you and you have to fight the urge to buck your hips as Umemiya deepens the kiss. When he parts your lips, you give no resistance, letting him sweep his tongue over yours.
His fingers trail featherlight touches up and down your bare back, tracing the curves of your body, committing them to memory.
If your pussy wasn’t squeezing him so tightly, he could stay like this forever. The intimacy, the closeness. To know he’s reaching inside the deepest part of you. Umemiya loves this. He loves you.
Ren Kaji has no patience for cockwarming but he tries, for you.
You straddle his lap, holding him snug inside you, as you suck rough kisses against his neck the way you know he likes. Kaji groans, his hips instinctively thrusting up. You pull back, huffing.
“No moving!”
Kaji growls, pressing his face between your tits to distract himself. He nibbles and sucks at the soft skin, leaving his own marks on you, before moving to your nipples. You gasp as he flicks his tongue over one nipple, causing it to stiffen, and Kaji tips his head back.
“Baby, I can’t keep still,” he groans.
“It’s only been two minutes.”
“That’s long enough.”
You squeal as he flips you over onto your back, somehow staying inside you. Kaji wastes no time, rolling his hips as he finally, finally gets to move inside you. His cock drags along your plush walls, sending sparks through your body.
“Fuck… That’s better…” he moans, burying his face in your neck.
Kaji picks up speed, grabbing the headboard to leverage himself, fucking you even harder. He scoops a hand under your ass, holding you in place at an angle he knows will make your eyes roll back in your skull.
All thoughts of protest leave your mind as the thick ridges of his cock rub against your g-spot. Stars burst behind your eyes as you clench down around him, creaming on his cock.
Maybe Kaji was right, maybe this is better.
Jo Togame likes to think of himself as a fan of cockwarming but he always runs out of patience in the end.
He loves it when you’re on top, of course. Sex generally starts off slow, Togame moving like he’s at 0.75x speed like everything else. So he loves when you climb on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock while he gets to watch.
Except this time, when you work him fully inside you, you stop.
You lie down against his broad chest, keeping him inside you as you wrap your arms around him.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” you say, sighing contentedly against him.
“Mhmm,” he hums, absently playing with your hair.
He is enjoying himself, he admits, but the way your hot walls are massaging his cock is making his hips buck. You stay like that for a while, as Togame’s cock starts to grow painfully hard at the tease of your sweet pussy without any friction.
Togame splays one large hand against your lower back, pinning you to him, as the other grabs your thigh. He thrusts upward, making you gasp.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Togame keeps you pinned against him as he fucks up into you slowly, finally getting the delicious friction he needed so badly. Your welcoming walls squeeze him, milking his cock the way he loves.
Togame likes cockwarming but he loves what comes after.
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