#curves and skin and squeezing and closeness

[loveliluc]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ make up for lost time ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

— ft. alhaitham, diluc, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli

synopsis — even when they arrive home from work much later than usual, there you are, ready and willing to welcome them into your arms; 3.7k words.

— minors do not interact! unprotected sex. oral. fingering. mirror play. kissing. sexual language. afab!reader with no use of specific pronouns. sub!reader.

— alhaitham 𝜗𝜚

acting grand sage alhaitham this, acting grand sage alhaitham that. alhaitham has lost count of how many times he’s heard that title today, a perpetual reminder of his current station and a thorn in his side. he isn’t one to do more than required of him, what with his resolute desire to live an easy life. but one thing he is is dutiful. he will do his job, as scribe or acting grand sage alike, because doing his job well will save him the hassle further down the line. but this isn’t to say alhaitham isn’t annoyed with the situation he’s found himself in, temporary as it may be. he’s beyond aggravated as he leaves the akademiya, the sun already well beyond setting. another long day. his annoyance doesn’t last much longer through the threshold of his home, however. especially not when he sees you curled on the couch with a book. he almost sighs of relief when your pretty eyes turn upwards to meet his.

“you’re home,” you say in greeting. you snap your book shut gently as your body turns to face him, already preparing to welcome him in as you watch him move closer.

“you waited up for me again.” it’s a matter of fact statement, and it falls off alhaitham’s lips in a dull tone, but you know him, and know that he feels somewhat bad that you’ve stayed up so late just for him. but he’s grateful for you all the same. his toned body collapses next to you on the couch, quickly bringing you in close with one arm. you’re eager to receive the embrace and quick to settle yourself upon his lap.

you nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe; you’ve missed him. “i’m glad you’re home.” your arms are around his shoulders and you sigh when his hands find your waist and squeeze. the man below you simply grunts, and you know he’s beyond tired from the day. “i missed you today.”

alhaitham’s hands smooth over the curves of you and finally slip under your shirt to feel your skin. he feels you shudder. “oh yeah?” he’s never been a man in need of affirmative words, but he can’t help but love to hear you say that you missed him, him of all people.

“mhm.” your hands are toying with his hair now, fingers tangling in the silvery locks. you can’t help the involuntary grind of your hips.

the man beneath you grunts again at the action, your clothed cunt warm against his groin. his fingers travel higher up under your shirt just as he feels your lips against his neck. “how much?” he hears you sigh and feels the heat of your breath. his skin is littered with goosebumps, and they don’t go unnoticed by you. and he’s not concerned with hiding the effect you have on him.

“a lot,” you reply against his skin, your hips rolling again. you feel something hardening under you, and it grazes your heat in a way that makes you shudder. you pull your head away to look at his handsome yet tired face. “care for a demonstration?”

he smirks. “by all means.” and you’re so eager to show him, to prove to him the way you yearned for him all day. and he doesn’t speak it aloud just yet, but he doesn’t need words when his hard cock that springs out of his pants is sufficient evidence that he has also longed for you. you’re on your knees now, taking his length in your hand. he’s hot and solid in your grasp, and already so sensitive as he takes the first plunge into your welcoming mouth.

you hollow your cheeks and suck after taking what you can of him. your hand wraps around what’s left, and the combination has the scribe-turned-acting-grand-sage groaning above you. he’s so heavy on your tongue, and he tastes so good just like he always does. you’re already a mess between your thighs, panties dampened with your slick. you clench your thighs as you suck him off. the taste of him and the sounds of his raspy groans are getting to you, accelerated by your desperation.

alhaitham watches you bob up and down his shaft through hazy vision. his eyes are heavy with sleepiness, but also lust as he admires the way you swallow him. fuck, he’s missed you. it’s so evident in the way he reaches his end quickly with one final push of his cock in your mouth, his hot cum spilling down your throat. you take all he has to give and then some until he’s pulling you off him.

you swallow the last of his release while your eyes remain on his. his hand tightens in your hair. “was that good enough proof, hm?” the man above you smirks.

he’s pulling you into his lap again until your face is only mere inches away. he can feel the way your arousal has seeped through your shorts with the way you settle yourself over his bare cock. alhaitham kisses you once, twice, thrice. “i suppose,” he whispers against your skin. “but now i think it’s my turn to show you, yes?”

— diluc 𝜗𝜚

it’s no secret that your husband diluc is a busy man, to say the least. he wears many hats, and has many responsibilities. he’s dutiful in all things, dedicated and diligent. anyone would be hard pressed to find someone more committed to mondstadt than him. he does so much beyond what people are even aware of, and as much as you adore how honorable and noble he is, you can’t deny that you some times grow tired of how busy he is. he always does his best to pamper you when he can, to be the most attentive, caring spouse he can be to you. and he is very much that and more. you couldn’t ask for a better husband, it’s just…you wish you could have more time with him. and as for the last few days, he’s been even more busy than usual.

and diluc knows this, so painfully aware of his absence. which is why he wastes no time in heading towards the direction of your bedroom after getting home tonight. it’s so late that even the winery staff have already retired for the night; it’s quiet, but diluc doesn’t linger near the front door too long in worry some other obstacle may stand in his way of you. his heart is fluttering faster the closer he gets to your door, and it all but bursts in his chest when his eyes find your form. you’re springing off the bed before he can even register your movement, but his natural reflex to always reach out for you allows him to catch you when you barrel into his strong chest.

“you’re home.” you’re relieved, immensely so. your body melts in his warm embrace and you almost purr with content when you feel him relax around you.

diluc’s overwhelmed by your scent and he feels like his knees could give way any moment. as elated as he is that you’re awake to greet him, he’s overly aware of the hour and a worry rises within him. “and you’re still awake. should you not be asleep, my love?”

“can’t sleep without you,” you whine. “wanted to see you when you got home. i missed you so much.” and the pouty eyes that look up at him just about does him in for good.

he feels the way you cling to him, and he breathes a chuckle while he kisses your forehead. you’re too cute. “i cannot deny that i’m happy to be welcomed by you. i have missed you as well, my love.” and he’s pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, and he only intends for it to be a quick gesture but the way you tug and pull at him keeps him rooted in place.

the longer you kiss him the more heated things turn. you’re clambering at the lapels of his coat because you simply cannot get close enough; his hands are in a firm press around your hips and soon enough he’s pushing you backwards towards the large bed. there’s so much you both could say, so much left unsaid from all the time apart, but the best way either of you could express it all is through desperate touches and sighs. and it all escalates until he’s balls deep inside your warm, wet cunt, your legs thrown over his broad shoulders.

diluc isn’t precise in his rhythm, his cock driving wildly into your warmth and it’s all he can do to keep himself together. you’re already so overwhelmed under him, nails in his skin and his name on your lips. his mouth is all over your face, your lips, and then your neck. “missed you, missed this tight little pussy. i — hah — am so sorry, my love. promise i’ll make it all u-up to you.”

and you have no doubt he will. it doesn’t really matter how much time he spends away when he’s always so good at coming back to you at the end of the day. your face is buried in his shoulder as you wail out his name. “diluc! ‘m so close! don’t stop!”

diluc groans when you squeeze him so good. a hand snakes down between your body to press a warm thumb to your puffy clit. “will never stop, my love. never stop making you feel good. so good.” and he doesn’t stop that night; he’s tired, you’re tired, but neither of you could get enough after all the time apart.

— neuvillette 𝜗𝜚

neuvillette suspects there must be something in the water as of late, because the oddities he’s endured in such a short amount of time are abundant. his job as iudex has been particularly peculiar lately, or rather, the trials he has been overseeing have been quite…out of the ordinary. there’s been more legal documents atop his desk as of late, and as the ever diligent chief justice that he is, he allocates all of his time to make sure they’re properly sorted. a hectic work schedule wouldn’t be so unbearable though if the thought of you didn’t dwell on his mind every waking moment…

you’re his motivation to push through every document, to be done with his responsibilities and finally leave his office and seek out your presence that awaits him at home. he groans at the thought of you waiting for him, your pretty little self eager for him and only him. his trousers are becoming all too tight the more he muses upon you; it’s too much, you’re too much and you’re not even near him. he feels wildly inappropriate getting so worked up within his office, at his place of work. it’s so shameful, but he supposes it cannot be helped. all he can do now is finish as quickly as possible so he can alleviate his pent up sexual frustration.

it’s late when he arrives home, and neuvillette is certain you’re well asleep by now. but to his pleasant surprise, you’re very much awake when he steps into your shared bedroom, sitting at the large vanity. he’s stunned for a moment as he watches you; why does it feel like it’s been ages since he’s last seen you? you’re brushing through your hair but stop when you notice him, your gaze meeting his through the mirror.

you make his heart leap in his chest when you give him a smile in the reflection. “welcome home.” it’s so simple but he feels all the stress wash off of him at your attention. his feet are moving on their own accord, and you stay put to welcome him in once he’s close.

“my dear, my love.” neuvillette sighs out in both relief and adoration while he towers behind you. he’s bending forward and burying his face in your nape, and his breath makes goosebumps erupt all over your skin. his gloved hands are squeezing at your shoulders before wrapping around to settle against your waist. you giggle when he peppers kisses along your throat and shoulder.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you missed me,” you tease, leaning into his embrace. your eyes watch the reflection, and you enjoy the sight of his larger frame around you. “is that a fair statement, love?”

neuvillette groans; it’s a sound that slips out more guttural and needy than he intends. “very fair, indeed.” his hands smooth over the silk of your night gown and you exhale. his need from earlier is returning with a vengeance, dick throbbing pathetically in his pants. your smell, your body, it’s all affecting him. “you’ve taken over my mind all day. I simply could not escape you in the slightest. very distracting, i must say.”

you sigh when his large hands rise up your arms to toy with the thin straps of your night gown. he tugs them off your shoulders the moment he nibbles at your neck, and you can’t help the moan that flows forth. “show me, neuvillette. show me all the ways you thought about me while you were away.”

and oh, he does. he soon has your breasts free to his viewing and feeling pleasure, one large palm around one of the plush mounds of flesh, fingers pinching at the pebbled nipple. his other still gloved hand is plunged between your thighs, two fingers knuckle deep in your weepy cunt. he watches you in the mirror and it’s a nasty sight, and when your eyes find his he almost meets his end right then and there. he fucks you on his fingers while his thumb works over your swollen pearl, urging you to your climax with haste.

“neuvillette, m-my love —” you dissolve into pleasure before you can finish your words, your high overwhelming all of your senses. it’s so intense, amplified by the way your eyes remained locked on his through it all;

neuvillette guides you through your high and relishes in the way your cum soaks through his gloves. he’s kissing your temple as you calm down, but he is far from finished with you. “well done, my love. now,” he urges you on your wobbly feet. “lay on the bed for me.”

— wriothesley 𝜗𝜚

the duke doesn’t get to see the topside often. leaving the depths of the fortress is a rarity, but when he does ascend to the world above, it’s always to make his way home to you. but as luck — or lack thereof — would have it, spending time at home with you has become even more rare these days. being the warden is a never ending job, and his responsibilities persist even when he misses you so much it hurts. he’s wrangling new inmates when he’d much rather be tangled up with you, your knees folded over your form, and him balls deep inside —

wriothesley grunts when his dick throbs impatiently in his slacks. he’s fumbling with his keys in a frantic search for the house key because he quite simply cannot get inside fast enough; there’s an overwhelming urgency to be inside you that’s compelling him to practically knock down the front door once it’s unlocked. it’s been much too long since he’s been graced with the sweet wrap of your cunt. he’s almost sprinting through the house towards your shared bedroom; fuck, he hopes you’re still awake. and thank the archons, you’re awake and so beautiful and right in front of him with the prettiest little smile that’s beckoning him closer.

“ah, there you are!” you’re sitting up in bed and wriothesley almost falls to his knees at the sight of you in one of his shirts. “i was beginning to think you weren’t coming home at all.”

“sorry, darlin’,” he’s climbing over the bed, his icy gaze locked on his target: you. “tried my best to make it on time. you haven’t been waiting up for me, have you?” and he knows you have and he’s grateful. his pretty darling staying up just to welcome him home.

you hum and open your thighs so he can slot himself between them. your fingers are quick to tangle in his hair and you almost hear him purr. “not too long, i suppose. but you’ll need to be quicker next time, or else i won’t be so forgiving.”

the duke in your hold smirks widely, and you feel a pulse between your thighs at the sight. “understood.” wriothesley presses a quick peck to your nose and you giggle; the sound is music to his ears, but as he travels down your body, he’s in search for a much different tune. he hikes up your — his — shirt and sighs at the sight of your panties, which he’s swift to hook two fingers underneath. he tugs them to the side and you so obediently widen your legs for him, to show him. “mmh, guess this means i’ve got some making up to do, huh?”

you don’t get to respond. well, not with words at least. you’re gasping when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, your fingers that are still in his hair tugging at the sudden sensation. “wriothesley!”

he smirks against your sex before offering another suctioned kiss to your mound. he follows it up with long swipe of his tongue through your folds and he earns himself the most precious moan from you. “you’ve got the prettiest and sweetest little pussy, darlin’. been missing her so much.”

you burn red at his words. soon enough he’s making a sticky mess between your thighs, and all you can do is lay there and take it while he laps up your essence like a dog. “fuck, wrio! that…that feels so good!” your legs are beginning to shake as he winds you up to your release.

“is that right, darlin?” wriothesley gleams up at you, distracting you with his devilishly handsome face while his fingers sneak their way to your entrance. he might not be punctual in getting back home to you tonight, but he’s eager to get in your good graces once again.

— zhongli 𝜗𝜚

zhongli thinks that maybe he’s getting too old for this after yet another errand for the wangsheng funeral parlor. there’s been an uptick in responsibilities recently, and the ever energetic director has been full of many requests for the consultant. and he powers through them, but all zhongli can focus on is the way he misses you terribly. all he wants is to get home to you at a decent hour, to spend time with you for a moment before you both have to retire for the night to prepare for the day ahead. it’s a domestic lifestyle the ex geo archon finds himself, working a steady job with a wonderful spouse waiting for him at home. he doesn’t want it another way truly. the only time he grows tired is when his work life overwhelms his personal one, leaving him with less time with you.

zhongli ponders back on this morning; you underneath him, your hands in his hair, his name on your pretty lips as he fills you with two long fingers. the way your back arches into him, the way you shudder and weep. it’s so clear in his mind, him so close to taking you on his cock before he realizes just how late he’s running for work. he never got to have you, to relish in your tightness, and he swears he hasn’t been able to get over it all day. the desire to have you grows the closer he gets home; he wonders if you’re still awake, and he also wonders if he’ll have the self control to not wake you up if you aren’t. he gets his answer when he walks into your shared home, his eyes finding you quickly.

you’re seated at the dining room table. you look so beautiful, and there’s a pot of tea with two cups sitting in front of you. you smile as he draws nearer. “welcome home,” you greet him. “i figured i’d wait up for you, and brew you a pot of tea. i know you’ve been working so hard lately.”

the god of old’s heart swells in chest. he smiles warmly. “you’re always so good to me, my dearest,” he praises as he closes the distance with a few more strides. when he’s able, he reaches out to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek affectionately. he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and oh, how he’s missed you.

you hum in delight and look up at him with eyes so beautiful they might just bring this ex archon to his knees. you giggle when he dives back in for another kiss, and then another, and then one more. this one lasts, it’s slow and languid. but then you reach and grasp his collar to pull him closer, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes.

it makes zhongli pause and chuckle, and he casts an almost apologetic glance at the teapot. “mmh, the tea will get cold…” he follows up his words with another searing kiss and clearly neither of you are too concerned with the tea. he’s handsy with you now and desperate to feel you, to pick back up where you both had left off this morning. he’s so hard, cock straining in his trousers, and when he plants you on the table and slips his fingers passed your underwear, he feels how aroused you are as well. you’re slippery with slick, and he groans. “my dearest, i simply must have you, is that alright?”

you nod eagerly. “y-yes, zhongli. please.” he absolutely cannot deny you when you sound so sweet.

which is why you find yourself a while later with your legs pinned to the table, your back arched in pleasure, and his cock nestled deep within your sodden cunt. the poor teacups rattle with every thrust of his hips, and even the table itself can’t withstand the way he takes you, the wooden furniture skidding across the floor. you’re so tight and warm and perfect around him. it’s maddening, and his large hands are squeezing your waist to keep himself grounded to reality. his tip kisses your womb repeatedly and you wail out his name. this is everything he’s been aching for all day. “so good for me. taking me so well, my dearest,” he groans. “i will never tire of coming home to you and this wonderful little pussy of yours.”

nat’s notes — if you’ve read until this point, thank you! this is my first fic/first time writing for genshin impact. so i figured this is the best time to introduce myself. i’m loveliluc aka nat! i’m new in the genshin impact fandom space, and new to the game overall as i only just started playing back in early september. guess you could say i’ve very much fallen down the genshin rabbit hole lol. i hope you enjoyed this first piece, and i look forward to posting more! would love any support on this, and would love to create new moots going forward. i also ask for patience as i am still getting to know many of the genshin characters so sorry if i write anyone ooc. thank you! <3

[dmitriene]

it's takes time with simon, patience, to wait for him until he warms up enough to crawl out from beneath his shell towards you, a shelter he built around, a place he let you approach, but never really left it, even when you started a relationship, a thing much closer than just a greetings and small hugs, ravenous kisses, long embraces, whispered, searing pet names, he still hesitated.

to let you see how his life looks, the military part of him, aside from a dirty gear he comes back home in, his friends, stories, his apartment, spacious, but too empty to be related as a home, his soul, the triggers and traumas that forever here to haunt him, simon never really leaves behind the ghost of himself, something he embraced instead.

so when he takes you with him to the town pub, not to spend time together, but to let you meet face forward with the curious, bewildered gazes of his military comrades, even his captain startled to see simon bring up anyone alongside himself, the realization makes something in you squeeze, throbbing right against your thumping, racing heart, overcoming with the sting that makes your eyes blink rapid, until a heavy arm tugs you almost forcefully close.

simon cradles you close to the curve of his side, fitting right against the slope of his waist, encircled fully with his draping hand, a protective gesture, a sharp, intent undertone to his smoldering eyes, catching the dim light of the room, he tongues at his cheek, gives a little bite to the tender flesh on the inside, calloused fingers spanning across the curvature of your hip, when his chest rumbles, reverberates through you whole, how he introduces you, his girl.

it's settles deep, the acknowledge, or a confession, hooking and tearing in your skin, sparkling like something long awaited, forgotten as a thing that would likely never happen, but it's there, voiced out to the stilling air between you all, the open mouths of his friends, simon's nose nudging in the crown of your head, leaving there a tender, flaming kiss that travels to your cheeks with heat, as you stutter, squeak a weak greeting, and their eyes soften, sweet and hopeful.

you hear a lot about simon this evening, how cool he is, hard as a rock, a good man, settled shy and pliable on his one thigh, muscular and solid beneath the suppleness of your body he holds tight, barking a laugh, crooked grin here and there while they talk, telling you things that seem like a secrets, but they're told in his presence, so you soak everything in, every little detail you're now have a permission to hold, close to your heart, nodding, giggling tender and raw, thanking every minute of what's happening.

his team is good, you scroll in your head when you both leave the pub, biding farewells out in the nighty, cold street, simon's jacket heavy and smelling with something heady over your shoulders, they loved you, made some affectionate nicknames that you're would definitely called again if you'll meet in the future, and it's stacks in behind your ribcage, heavy and bubbling, you suppress it all the way back to home, leaning on the sturdy warmth of the body you're cradled close to.

it's spills out unexpected, like a cork popping out from the wine bottle, pouring seemingly unstoppable, when simon lays you down on the cottony, cold sheets of your shared bed, tingling shivers trailing up from your curling toes at the contact, at the contrast of his chapped, scorching lips over your body and face, peppering sugary, gentle kisses, you sense the hunger in there, see through blearing haze at your eyes how his jawline tightens, teeth's grinding together, as he undresses you down.

you cry when he sheathes himself deep in, soppy, spasming cunt squeezed tight and wet around his bothered, engorged cock, walls seizing at the slip of your emotions, at the sob you let out, scaring something from simon that makes him pull you close instantly, bending awkwardly, tugging you against his sweating, firm chest, heart hammering beneath your ear and wet, tear streaked face as he rasps worried, short questions, listening at the way you choke small whimpers.

simon holds you still until you calm down enough to tell him, share all the worries you had, how patiently you waited for all of this, to hear how he proudly calls you his, introduces to his another slice of life, takes you forward with him hand in hand, as you weep, giggle during your speech, and he chuckles, not rude, brushing off way, it's as raw as your tears, hoarse, joyful in another kind, and he whispers then, voice mirroring yours in it's wetness, thanking you for being there all this time.

now his, for forever, and only, with nothing to wait for no more.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[littlelamy]

Teach Me

nerd!rafe x experienced!reader

Rafe Cameron wasn’t usually this quiet.

He wasn’t the loudest guy by any means, but his nervous energy tonight was new. Usually, his shyness came with a sort of clumsy charm, a stammered compliment or a soft laugh that always made your heart ache in the best way. But as he sat stiffly on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he looked like he might bolt at any moment.

“Rafey,” you said softly, stepping closer and leaning into his line of sight. “You okay?”

His head snapped up, blue eyes wide behind the smudge on his glasses. He pushed them up his nose, his hand shaking slightly, and dropped his gaze back to his lap. His long fingers twisted together, pale from how tightly he was holding them.

“Y-yeah,�� he mumbled, though his voice betrayed him with its unsteady wobble.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you reached out, fingertips brushing his jawline. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

Rafe swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, but didn’t meet your gaze. “I just… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.” You perched beside him on the bed, close enough that your knees bumped. “I’m listening.”

His lips parted, then closed again, as though the words were stuck in his throat. Finally, he managed, “I want to… I mean, I need to… be better for you. Better at, um, pleasing you.”

Your chest tightened at his vulnerable confession. “Rafe, you’re already amazing. You don’t have to—”

“No.” His voice came out firm, but he winced at his own abruptness. “I mean, thank you. But I want to do more for you. I want to know how to… touch you the way you deserve.”

The raw sincerity in his words made your heart swell. His cheeks were stained with a deep blush, and he looked like he was fighting every instinct to hide his face in his hands.

“You’re so sweet,” you whispered, lacing your fingers through his and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can take our time, baby. I’ll show you everything you want to know.”

Rafe relaxed slightly as you guided him to sit cross-legged on the bed. His hoodie lay discarded nearby, and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat in the room.

“First thing,” you said, settling in front of him, “is to pay attention. My body will tell you when something feels good—whether it’s my breathing, the way I move, or the sounds I make.”

His eyes widened, and he nodded quickly, his gaze flickering nervously between your face and your body.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I can do that.”

You reached for his hand, gently placing it on your thigh. “Start here. Gentle touches, nothing rushed. Feel how warm my skin is? That’s a good sign.”

Rafe’s fingers were warm and hesitant, but they began to explore as you encouraged him. He let his hand glide up slowly, his breath hitching when his fingertips grazed the hem of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “That’s perfect.”

As his touch grew more assured, his fingers dipped under the fabric, skimming the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The softness of his movements contrasted with the heat pooling in your stomach, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips.

“Like that?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched your face for affirmation.

“Exactly like that,” you murmured, your voice catching.

You shifted back against the pillows, tugging him down beside you. “Now, from here, you can explore more. Don’t overthink it. Use your hands, your mouth—just do what feels natural.”

Rafe’s blush deepened, but he nodded. His hand skimmed up your stomach, pausing when he reached the curve of your hip. His fingers trembled slightly, but the reverence in his touch sent a shiver through you.

When his lips brushed your collarbone, warm and tentative, you let out a soft moan. His head snapped up, panic flashing in his eyes.

“Was that too much?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for a kiss. “Not at all. That was perfect. Keep going, Rafey.”

Encouraged, he pressed his lips to your skin again, lingering this time. His kisses grew bolder, trailing down to the swell of your chest. His hands followed, brushing over you with featherlight touches that left your skin tingling.

“See how my body reacts?” you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand grazed a particularly sensitive spot. “That’s what I mean by listening.”

Rafe’s lips quirked into a shy smile, and he leaned into your touch with newfound confidence.

Rafe’s hand hesitated at the waistband of your panties, his fingertips brushing the soft fabric with a touch so light it sent a shiver up your spine. His wide blue eyes searched yours, filled with nervous anticipation, his lips slightly parted as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take the next step.

“Can I?” His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling but threaded with yearning.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice soft but certain.

His exhale was shaky as he focused his attention fully on you, his hand dipping beneath the fabric with deliberate slowness. The first brush of his fingers against your bare skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath catching audibly. His touch was tentative, his movements almost reverent, as though he couldn’t believe you were letting him do this.

“Rafey,” you murmured, your voice a mix of encouragement and need.

His fingers explored with unsteady care, tracing the slickness pooling there. His thumb brushed experimentally against your clit, and your body responded instantly, arching slightly under his touch. The sensation was almost too much yet not nearly enough, a delicious pressure that made you gasp softly.

“Is that good?” he asked, his brows furrowing in concentration as he watched your reaction.

“So good,” you managed, your voice a little breathless. “Keep going, just like that.”

The reassurance made his shoulders relax, and his movements grew bolder. His thumb pressed more firmly, circling that swollen bundle of nerves with a rhythm that made your thighs clench instinctively around his hand. The quiet whimper that slipped from your lips seemed to spur him on, his other hand coming to rest on your hip to steady you as his fingers moved with growing confidence.

Your body was alive under his touch, every nerve alight as he adjusted his movements, clearly paying attention to how you squirmed and sighed beneath him. The hesitancy from earlier was melting away, replaced by a kind of focused eagerness that made your chest tighten with affection.

“That feels good,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re doing so good, Rafe.”

His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile, but his fingers didn’t falter. He leaned down then, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing lower with every press of his lips. His hair tickled against your skin, the sensation adding to the whirlwind of pleasure building inside you.

When his kisses reached the hollow of your throat, you tilted your head back, giving him better access. He took it eagerly, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. The combination of his mouth and his hand working together was intoxicating, a steady rhythm that had you biting your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

“You like that?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and velvety. The rare confidence in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you couldn’t help but nod, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I love it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with pure pleasure.

His movements stilled for a moment as he shifted, his glasses slightly askew as he glanced up at you. “I… Can I try something else?” he asked, his voice softer now, more uncertain.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, your heart racing as his hands gently eased your panties down your legs.

Rafe paused, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you fully. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, but his gaze was captivated, reverent. Slowly, he settled himself lower, his shoulders nestled between your thighs.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but the determined look in his eyes stopped you.

“I want to,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The first press of his lips to your inner thigh was soft, almost hesitant. He lingered there, kissing a trail upward, his breath warm against your skin. Each kiss was tender, deliberate, until he was just where you wanted him most.

His lips brushed against you then, soft and unhurried, and the sensation sent a gasp tumbling from your lips. He hesitated, his blue eyes flicking up to yours for reassurance, and when he saw the way your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time.

The wet warmth of his mouth and the softness of his tongue as he tentatively explored made your entire body tense with pleasure. He was careful, almost shy, but each touch carried a sincerity that left you breathless.

“Rafey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

The sound of his name on your lips seemed to embolden him. His hands gripped your thighs gently, pulling you closer as he deepened his movements, his tongue finding the rhythm that made you gasp and arch beneath him. Every flick, every press, was deliberate, his sole focus on making you fall apart under his care.

“Is this… okay?” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against you.

“Perfect,” you managed, your voice breaking on the word. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

Rafe’s mouth was insistent now, his shyness giving way to a careful confidence as he listened to every sound you made, adjusting his movements to match the reactions he drew from you. Your hands found his hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the overwhelming sensations he was giving you.

Every kiss, every caress, was a revelation—an unspoken promise that he was there to learn every inch of you, to cherish you completely. The pleasure built steadily, an intoxicating crescendo that left you breathless, your thighs trembling as he found just the right rhythm with his mouth. His lips latched around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking softly at first, then with increasing determination as your whimpers turned into desperate cries of his name.

“Rafey,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as your hips pressed up against him, unable to control the way your body chased the peak he was bringing you toward.

His hands gripped your thighs firmly but gently, holding you in place as he gave it one last, deliberate suck. The sensation sent you spiraling, your body arching as the climax washed over you in waves, leaving you shaking and completely at his mercy. Your breath hitched, the room filled with the sound of your soft cries and his satisfied hum against you.

When the intensity finally began to drop, Rafe eased his touch, his mouth leaving a final tender kiss against your skin before he pulled away. His lips were parted, his breathing ragged, and his face was flushed with both pride and nervousness. His lips and chin glistened, a mix of his efforts and your release, and the sight alone sent another shiver through you.

He climbed back up the bed, his gaze locked on yours as if silently asking for reassurance. Leaning over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, he pressed his lips to yours in a tentative kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his lips, and the sound he made—low, guttural, and almost shy—vibrated against your mouth.

“Did I… Was that okay?” he asked softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. His blue eyes searched yours, his glasses slightly askew, and his lips glistening as he hovered just inches from you.

Your heart swelled at the nervousness in his voice, and instead of answering right away, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was deep, lingering, your fingers threading through his hair to pull him even closer. When you finally broke away, his lips were even more swollen, and his breath mingled with yours.

“You did amazing, sweetie,” you whispered, your voice full of affection and awe.

The words flooded him with relief, his shoulders relaxing as a shy yet proud smile tugged at the corners of his damp lips. Unable to resist, you reached up to wipe your arousal from his chin, your thumb grazing his flushed skin before leaning in to kiss him again.

Rafe melted into you, his earlier hesitation completely gone, replaced by a quiet confidence that had your heart racing all over again. And as he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm and shaky against your skin, you knew this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful between you.

a/n: last post of the day🥵

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[dutiful-wildcraft]

I thought to myself, ya know? There isn't enough Gaz/Ghost. So I fixed that problem.

Fluff, 1K, unedited, enjoy <3

It starts with the pair laying together, soft and sweet in the afterglow.

Never in a million years would Gaz guess that Simon would match his touchiness. Scarred hands massaging and petting almost incessantly at Gaz’s warm skin. It’s reverent, eyes and hands roaming over his body with a soft curiosity that had Gaz shivering in his arms.

Simon's eyes flicker up from where they were trained on the curve of Gaz's waist, tries to withdraw his hand when he catches Gaz's look of amusement.

Gaz snags him or course, gives his palm a squeeze and replaces it firmly back at his waist, squirming in closer to Simon's bulky frame, like a cat demanding pets.

Simon continues after a moment, shifting to draw patterns with his fingertips over his skin that has Gaz biting back ticklish laughs, he peers back up at him, finds eye black stained eyes trained back on him, an almost confused furrow to his brow as his fingers stroke back and forth.

“What's on your mind doll?” Gaz murmurs, pressing a small kiss to his shoulder. 

Simon pauses again, flattens his palm back out to slide down his hip, grab a handful a plush ass that has Gaz biting at his shoulder in playful retaliation.

“How are you so bloody soft?” Simon finally rumbles out, curling an arm around him to squeeze him close, bury his face into Gaz’s curls and inhale the warm scent that constantly clings to the man. 

Gaz laughs, rich and sweet, presses a trio of kisses over Simon’s heart in a quick rhythm. 

“I’ll show you.”

-

Gaz half thinks the big boy was going to back out as he corrals Simon into his bathroom. Simon stands there,  still and quiet as Gaz moves around the small space, void like eyes watching him as he unloads a small collection of hair and skincare products he’d picked up specifically for gentle giant.

It isn't until after a sufficient amount of steam is billowing from the shower and Gaz is guiding Simon’s old band t shirt off of his shoulders does he notice the stark blush creeping up his chest, red creeping up his neck. 

“Gettin’ shy on me?” Gaz teases, placating him with another kiss as he tugs off the ratty balaclava, revealing Simon’s full glare.  His hair has grown out, blonde curls sad and dry. Gaz would take care of that too. 

Gaz sets to work as soon as they climb into the shower,  guides Simon under the warm spray and pours a sweet smelling shampoo between his palms, working Simon’s curls over with gentle massaging. It’s powerful Gaz thinks, to see his lover like this, at peace, eyes closed as Gaz draws swirls in the suds of his hair. 

He applies a light leave in conditioner to sit next while he works his way down to clean away the remnant eye black from Simon’s face. Rubbing away the stubborn paint from his eyes and cheeks with gentle hands. Simon is putty in his arms, practically leaning on him as he works an expensive soap over his curves, thoroughly massaging the sweet smelling scent into skin as he works him over from head to toe.

After he’s finished he props Simon up against the shower wall and subtly gives a little show of lathering himself down. Simon’s hands are on him almost immediately, his hands playing in the bubbles against his skin as he steals kisses under the warm spray. Gaz just barely gets him pried off to wash his own hair, almost giddy with the way Simon watches him. Eyes following the rivulets of water that slide along his skin. 

It’s a challenge to coax his cold natured partner out of the hot spray, but Gaz can barely fight off his pleased grin as he finally pulls Simon free, his lover red faced and dreamy as he pats him dry with a soft towel, and works another lotion into his pale skin. He can tell Simon is valiantly trying to will away the blood flowing to his groin, chubbing up his length as Gaz sits pretty on his knees, working over Simon’s calves and thighs. 

“Like being pampered don’t you doll?” Gaz purrs, pressing a cheeky kiss to his thigh that has Simon’s fingers curling into his hair in warning. “Be patient.” he reminds. 

Simon complies, of course he does, lets Gaz coat is hair with a light curl cream, fingers carefully taming and reshaping the short curls that Simon has neglected for years. Sits quietly on the toilet seat while Gaz shaves away the stubble that he knows Simon hates , lines up the back of his neck to keep his curls from touching there, applies cool feeling creams to face to battle any razor burn of acne.

By the time it’s all said and done, Gaz can’t help but admire the man. 

Simon is glowing. 

Pretty blonde curls so soft and shiny. Face clean and cheeks pink. Gaz runs his hands over his skin, preening happily at the silky glide of his fingers over Simon’s muscles, the way Simon’s own scent mingles beautifully with the honey almond scent Gaz painted him with. A little treat Gaz is more than happy to have all to himself. 

He’s never seen the man drunk, but Gaz thinks this must be pretty close. Simon’s eyes are half-lidded, dopey with the way Gaz caresses his face, pets over his skin like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. Kisses him sweet and slow, chuckling as Simon’s big paws find him again, pulling him in close by the hips, former chub now full and hot against his thigh. 

“Come along sweets, not done with you yet.”

[libingan]

— tits or ass?

JOHN PRICE

ass man.

john doesn’t bother pretending otherwise—he’s obsessed. there’s nothing he loves more than bending you over the nearest surface, his rough hands spreading your cheeks apart as he takes in the sight. “bloody perfect,” he growls, his voice low and gravelly, his thumb brushing over the soft flesh like it’s his personal reward.

his touch is deliberate, firm as he grips you, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave bruises he admires later. he’s a man of control, but when it comes to you, he’s shamelessly greedy.

he loves the way your body reacts to him—the way you gasp and moan when his palm cracks against your skin, leaving a red print behind. “can’t help myself,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck as he pulls you back onto him, his cock buried deep inside.

“this ass of yours,” he groans, his hips snapping against you as his hands anchor you in place, “drives me fuckin’ mad.” and when you whimper his name, his grip only tightens, his chest rumbling with a deep, possessive growl. by the time he’s done, you’re marked, trembling, and entirely his.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

tits man.

kyle’s obsession is borderline feral. the moment your shirt comes off, his hands are on you, squeezing, kneading, and tugging like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “fuckin’ perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with arousal as his thumbs tease your nipples, brushing over the sensitive peaks.

he’s got a thing for pinning you under him, watching you arch into his touch, your chest rising and falling as you gasp. “can’t ever get enough of you,” he mutters, lowering his mouth to drag his tongue over your skin, sucking and biting until you’re marked and trembling.

he’s greedy, burying his face in your chest, his breath hot and ragged as his hands grip your waist. “these are mine,” he growls, his teeth grazing your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp that makes him smirk. “all mine. no one else gets to touch you like this.”

and when you’re straddling him, your body pressed close, he’s in heaven. “fuck, you’re gonna kill me someday,” he groans, his hands roaming over your skin like he’s memorizing every curve.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

tits man.

soap’s got no shame, and it shows. the second your shirt’s off, he’s all over you, his hands large and warm as they cup your chest, squeezing and teasing like you’re the best thing he’s ever touched. “jesus fuckin’ christ,” he mutters, his accent thick, his voice tinged with awe.

he loves leaving marks, his lips and teeth working over your skin as he sucks and bites, leaving trails of bruises behind. “can’t help myself, lass,” he growls, his voice low and hungry. “ye’re too bloody perfect.”

his favorite thing is having you ride him, your chest in his face while his tongue works over your sensitive skin, sucking and lapping until you’re moaning his name. “that’s it,” he coos, his hands gripping your hips as he guides you, his smirk sharp as he watches you fall apart.

“gonna make sure everyone knows who ye belong to,” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin as his teeth graze over your nipple, making you gasp. he’s relentless, devouring you like you’re his favorite meal, his hands and mouth never leaving your body.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

ass man.

simon’s fixation isn’t just a preference—it’s an obsession. the second he has you alone, you’re face down, ass up, and entirely at his mercy. his hands are firm as they spread you apart, his breath hot against your skin. “bloody beautiful,” he mutters, his voice thick and gravelly, his thumbs pressing into your flesh.

he starts slow, dragging his tongue over your skin, savoring the way your body shudders beneath him. “stay still,” he growls when you squirm, his grip tightening. “don’t make me hold you down.”

the first flick of his tongue over your hole has your breath hitching, and he groans at the way you react. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he rasps, his tongue moving with purpose now, wet and deliberate as he works you over.

his hands keep you spread wide, thumbs digging into your skin as he devours you, sloppy and unrelenting. the obscene sounds he makes—low groans, muffled growls, and the wet slide of his tongue—only add to your undoing.

“this arse,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, “drives me mad.” then he’s back at it, tongue circling and teasing until you’re trembling and gasping his name.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are slick, his dark eyes locked on yours. “mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive. “every fuckin’ inch of you.”

[diamonddaze01]

love you the mostest

pairing: ljh x reader genre: fluffy fluffy fluffy | wc: 2.2k warnings: none | rating: pg a/n: my love letter to lee jihoon - happy birthday <3 // also big thanks to @chanranghaeys for convincing me to write this all as one big fic i love u muah

summary: happy birthday, jihoon.

The room was still dark, save for the faintest sliver of light peeking through the edges of the curtains, hinting at the dawn breaking outside. The soft hum of the early morning and the rhythmic rise and fall of Jihoon’s breath were the only sounds, a quiet lullaby of intimacy.

You had woken up long before your alarm, the quiet stirrings of the city pulling you from sleep. Jihoon’s schedule was packed today, like it always was, and you wanted to steal this moment—when the world was still asleep and his mind hadn't yet been claimed by the chaos. He was so calm in the mornings, his body relaxed and at peace, the stillness of sleep wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.

You shifted slightly under the covers, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, inviting you to stay close. His hand found yours, fingers threading together almost instinctively, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. His exhale tickled your skin as he pulled you in, his face burrowing into the crook of your neck. The familiar weight of him settled against you, grounding you in the moment.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering there for just a beat longer than usual. Pulling back, you brushed a strand of hair away from his face, his eyes barely open, still clouded with sleep. He blinked up at you, his hand tightening around yours as though to ensure you were real, his lips curving into a soft smile.

"Mm... so early," he mumbled, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sorry, Hoonie," you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "I couldn’t wait to tell you."

He stirred just a little, his arms pulling you closer, his lips grazing your jawline, a barely audible sound escaping his lips. "Tell me what?"

You grinned at how endearing he looked, his sleepy smile making your heart flutter. "Happy birthday," you whispered, your words soft but full of warmth, just for him, in the quiet stillness of the room.

His eyes fluttered open fully now, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him, and for a moment, it seemed like he didn’t quite understand. Then, a soft, surprised smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his voice, still rough from sleep, was filled with warmth. "It’s too early for that, you know?"

You laughed softly, your fingers threading through his messy hair. "I know. But I wanted to be the first to wish you."

His arms tightened around you, pulling you in closer, his lips brushing against your neck once more as he sighed. "You’re always the first," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "And the best part of my day, too."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the sincerity in his words, even through the haze of sleep. The morning light, gentle now, cast a soft glow on his face, making him look even more angelic than usual.

"I’m glad," you murmured, your voice full of affection as you tightened your embrace. "You deserve everything, Jihoon. I hope this year brings you all the happiness you deserve."

He sighed contentedly, his eyes slipping shut, the exhaustion of his day lingering in the way he held you close. But then, his lips brushed your cheek, a soft kiss that lingered just long enough to make your heart beat a little faster. It wasn’t rushed or demanding—just gentle, an invitation to stay in this moment with him.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes as his lips hovered near your skin, warm and tender. A moment passed, and his mouth brushed the corner of your lips, so faint it almost felt like a dream. The kiss was lazy and slow, drawn out, as though he was savoring the sensation of being close to you.

His hand found its way to your arm, his fingers tracing up your skin with a light touch, sending a shiver down your spine. He tugged you in closer, his body pressing against yours, and the weight of him was both heavy and comforting. The space between you disappeared, leaving only the soft press of his lips and the gentle rhythm of your breath.

"Too far away," he murmured, his voice low and still thick with sleep, as if waking to the reality of the moment. His lips found yours again, this time with more intention, the kiss deepening as if he couldn’t quite pull away. It was slow, not desperate, but full of the kind of closeness that only two people who had shared so many quiet mornings could understand.

You melted into him, your heart fluttering with the familiarity of it all. His lips moved against yours in a rhythm only the two of you knew, a rhythm that spoke of years of being in sync with each other, of a bond forged in the most ordinary yet profound moments.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, both of you breathing softly, trying to slow the quickening beat of your hearts. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, and you brushed your fingers through his hair, your heart full with the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"You need to get some rest, Hoonie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "You’ve got a long day ahead."

He groaned, a playful pout forming on his lips. "Just a little longer..."

You shook your head gently, kissing his forehead, lingering there for a moment before you tucked yourself closer to him. "No, you’ve got schedules today. You need to sleep."

Jihoon’s arms tightened around you for a second, and he sighed, his face nuzzling into your neck once more. "Fine," he muttered, though you could hear the smile in his voice. "But just a few more minutes."

You grinned, letting yourself relax into him, the warmth of his body and the steady sound of his breathing lulling you both back into the quiet comfort of the morning. The world outside could wait just a little longer.

It’s nearly 2 AM when Jihoon comes home, the faint jingle of his keys breaking the stillness of the apartment. The door creaks open, and the soft shuffle of his sneakers against the hardwood announces his presence. He stands in the entryway, shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion. His eyes are heavy, his body aching from the endless hours spent in the studio.

But then he notices it—the living room.

The space is bathed in a soft, golden glow from the streetlights filtering through the curtains. Balloons in every color scatter across the floor like a rainbow had exploded inside. In the center of the coffee table, a small cake sits proudly, its frosting delicately swirled and an unlit candle standing tall in the middle. The sight alone eases the tight coil of tension in his chest, but it’s the figure on the couch that truly stops him.

It’s you.

You’re curled up, cheek pressed to a throw pillow, legs tucked underneath you. The faint rise and fall of your chest in sleep makes his heart twist. You look so peaceful, your hair slightly mussed and your face soft with dreams. Jihoon stands there for a moment, drinking you in, before a quiet laugh escapes him. How is it that even now, you manage to make him feel like the luckiest person alive?

“Baby?” he calls softly, his voice low and careful, barely above a whisper.

You stir at the sound, a groan escaping your lips as your eyes flutter open. Blinking blearily, you meet his gaze, your expression drowsy but warm.

“Jihoon?” you murmur, your voice laced with sleep.

He steps closer, the corners of his lips tugging upward. “Yeah, love,” he says, moving to the couch and gently lifting your legs to settle them on his lap. His hands are warm and careful as they touch you, and you sigh at the familiarity. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if to reassure himself that you’re really here. “What’s all this?”

“Birthday surprise,” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep as you rub your eyes.

Jihoon chuckles, a low sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “It’s 2 AM. My birthday’s over, love.”

That wakes you a little more. You sit up abruptly, your mock-serious expression drawing a playful scoff from him. “I’d celebrate with you any day, any time, forever, love of my life,” you declare dramatically, throwing a hand over your heart.

He rolls his eyes, but the warmth in his gaze betrays him. “Alright then, troublemaker,” he teases, “let’s celebrate.”

Sliding off the couch, Jihoon pulls you with him, settling himself on the floor in front of the coffee table. He tugs at your hands until you’re seated sideways in his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist like they were made to anchor you there.

His gaze flickers to the candle. “Well?” he prompts, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Aren’t you going to light it?”

You reach for the lighter, flicking it until a tiny flame dances atop the wick. The room glows warmly, the light catching on Jihoon’s features—his sharp jawline, the soft curve of his lips, and the faint tiredness that lingers in his eyes. Your breath hitches. He’s always been beautiful, but in this moment, with his gaze fixed only on you, he’s breathtaking.

You hum a quiet, off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, and Jihoon sways you gently as you sing, his hands rubbing slow circles into your back. When you finish, he leans forward to blow out the candle, the flame flickering briefly before disappearing.

“Make a wish?” you ask softly.

His lips curve into a faint smile. “Don’t need to,” he murmurs, his voice like a secret meant only for you. “I already have everything I want.”

The words make your heart stutter. He leans back against the couch, and you press a kiss to his cheek, then another to his jawline, your lips brushing against his skin as softly as the light in the room.

Jihoon reaches for the cake with his fingers, tearing off a small piece and holding it out to you. “Forgot the plates, huh?” he teases, his lips twitching with amusement.

You laugh, taking the offered bite. The frosting melts on your tongue, sugary and sweet, but nothing compares to the warmth that blooms in your chest at the sound of his laughter.

“You know,” he muses, brushing a thumb over the corner of your lips to catch a stray crumb, “in Brazil, people give the first slice of their birthday cake to the person they love most.”

The simple, tender confession undoes you. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It’s soft and deep, and he sighs against your lips, his hands tightening around your waist. He tastes like frosting and everything good in the world, and you think you could drown in him forever.

“Happy birthday, Jihoon,” you whisper when you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together. “I love you the most, too.”

His lips brush against your temple as he replies, “Thank you, my love.”

The two of you sit there for a while in comfortable silence, the hum of the city outside a faint backdrop to Jihoon’s voice as he softly hums a melody into your hair.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, love?” he answers, his tone low and warm.

“It’s not your birthday anymore.”

A faint smirk curves his lips. “Well done, troublemaker. Very astute observation.”

A mischievous grin spreads across your face as you dip your finger into the frosting. “So that means I can do this!”

Before he can react, you swipe your frosting-covered hand across his cheek, leaving a trail of sprinkles and sugary chaos behind.

For a moment, he just stares at you, mouth agape in mock horror. Then his eyes narrow, and a grin overtakes his features.

“Why, you little—”

You’re on your feet in an instant, laughter spilling from your lips as you dart toward the bedroom. Jihoon’s laughter rings out as he chases you, catching you with ease and tackling you onto the bed.

“Got you now,” he declares, pinning your wrists to the mattress, his fingers digging mercilessly into your sides as you shriek with laughter.

“Jihoon, stop!” you gasp between giggles. “The sheets—they’re new!”

He pauses, his expression mock-serious. “Fine,” he relents, releasing your wrists. “Only because the sheets are white.”

“And because you love me?” you tease, still catching your breath.

“And because I love you,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads to the bathroom. “I love you the mostest. Thank you for the best birthday.”

Lying back on the bed, you let out a contented sigh, your heart full. There’s no one else you’d rather celebrate with—2 AM or not.

[chrissturnsfav]

i need singer!reader and rapper!chris first time 🙏🏻

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris x singer!reader's first time

you're not sure how you've ended up in this position, in a stall of the women's bathroom with chris at the strip club for the launch party of yours and his new song.

you've only met chris about three months ago when his manager reached out to yours, wanting to feature you on one of chris' songs thinking the girly nature of your music would contrast perfectly with chris' hard rap vibe.

again, you're not sure how it happened, but a few drinks and a blunt later, he's got you pushed up against the door of the stall. his hands are set firmly on your waist, his lips attacking yours with evident dominance.

"pretty fuckin' girl," chris slurs against your lips, his tongue sliding against yours hungrily, teeth clashing every so often as his fingers roam around your body.

his lips detach from yours, moving down to nip at your neck. your arms tighten around his shoulders, half lidded eyes closing in arousal.

"so hot," he murmurs against your skin between kisses, your heavy breaths filling the stall as you feel a slickness settling in your panties.

"y'think i can fuck you better than any other guy you've fucked wit'?" he smirks dangerously against the flesh of your collarbone, drunk eyes flitting up to your needy face.

"mm...maybe?" you mumble back, your own glossy eyes meeting his. your response makes him laugh darkly, fingers riding your dress up over your hips.

"yeah. we'll fuckin' see 'bout that," he slurs, flipping your body around and your breath hitches. "bend over f'me ma."

you do as he says, bending your body over before him, palms pressed against the door of the stall. you hear him hum in arousal behind you, one hand pushing down the small of your back, the other tracing the lacy material of your thong.

a moment later, you hear the clacking of his belt as he unzips his jeans and pulls them down just enough to pull out his already hardened length, dripping with precum.

he keeps one hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you wait eagerly for him to fuck you, his other hand pumping himself a few times and you hear him grunt quietly behind you.

"fuckin' perfect body," he mumbles, you're able to practically hear the wicked smirk on his face as his fingers trace the curve of your ass. "perfect face," he continues, his fingers moving up to cup your jaw, "perfect hair," he says, tugging your head back by a handful of your hair roughly, but also oddly gentle.

"lemme know if s'too much, yeah?" he slurs, his back pressing against you as he whispers huskily in your ear. his tone sends shivers down your spine and you nod eagerly.

he hums in amusement, smirking as he licks his lips and leans back. he gives your ass a slap before running his tip through your sopping folds, making you whimper quietly.

a short while later, he's pounding into you absolutely mercilessly. he's grunting lowly from behind you, one hand on your ass guiding you back onto him, the other gripping your hair tightly in his grasp as the locked stall door slams with each action of his hips.

your face is totally fucked out, drool seeping past your open mouth, eyes rolled all the way back, brows knit together in pleasure as loud whines and pants leave your lips.

"yeah, y'like that?" he chuckles through a breathy groan, leaning forward to speak darkly in your ear.

your mind is too foggy with intoxication and euphoria to even respond, your cheeks heating up as each word you try to say just comes out in babbled moans.

chris laughs huskily in your ear, slapping your ass as he smirks mischievously, "y'were a lil' sweet girl i met three months ago, now look at you. fuckin' droolin' 'n goin' dumb over some dick."

thank you for reading! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[itwdoris]

RAHHHH YESSSSS HAIRY MEGUMIIIII RAHHHH HAIR MEN RAHHHHH MEN HAPPY TRAILS MY TOES ARE CURLING IM DYING YTEARS IN MA EYES😭😭😭😭😭 PLSPSLSPSLSLOSLS IM SO THIRSTYYYYYYYYYRAHHHH

megumi is a big cuddlebug, even if he didn't admit it, he never spoke out loud but you knew when he wanted affection. it was almost a pattern, he would stop next to you for a few seconds and look at you quickly, then would come a little closer until he was close enough for you to grab him.

sometimes he just stood there with his arms folded, waiting, he was either very patient or very embarrassed. but not here to talk about that, in fact, the subject is;

megumi is hairy.

if you count that the older fushiguro is, it's not a surprise that he is also, despite the fact that he walked around with his body covered in his clothes and always kept his face well shaved, you wouldn't have noticed so much. but there was something, and you found out when you two got together.

he wasn't too ashamed or anything, but he didn't have to confess it for you to understand that he felt "nervous" when you touched it or looked at him.

like now, when he's by your side wanting you because he's so needy, wanting to smell you, wanting to squeeze you. so you move a little closer, listening to him breathe deeply; satisfied, as you snuggle up next to him on the bed.

you can not only feel but also see the slightly defined and slender arms enveloping you little by little, little hairs adorning them, almost cute, walking to the beginning of the back of his hands. you made an effort to take your arms out of the wrapping, gently, running your hand over them lightly, looking so amazed.

not just because of this ones, but from his whole body, his arms almost softs, his legs that tickled you sometimes under the covers, his beard that he rarely let show, that you loved to feel lightly pinching your face. straight as his hair, but when they were too big, they started to make cute curves, even if you've only seen it that way once or twice at most.

but your favorite was definitely the ones on his torso.

feeling your hand go up his arm was so good when you were playing, tugging lightly and making it stay in place again,but nothing compared to when you put your hand inside his blouse, caressing him with your fingertips, which made him shiver and sigh so pleasantly.

and hearing megumi's sighs so close to your ear was so good, you could see his eyes slowly closing to relax, another hand going up to his hair to stroke it while he tried to turn to lie on his front and just feel you clinging to him, caressing him.

he loved it, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. you knew that, pulling the hem of his shirt up a little to get more access, seeing the little belly fucking cute and slightly defined, a small trail of black hair going up but getting lost before reaching his chest.

you lay your head on his shoulder while he rested his head on yours, feeling his arm still holding you from behind, running your hand through his pretty hairs.

his belly rising and falling every time you put your hand down a little too far and the circles that were supposed to be on his free skin began to circle the hem of his underpants. a dangerous area.

he sighed softly, raising his hips just a little, involuntarily wanting more of your fingers, you almost smiled. opening his eyes to look, turning slightly to hug you again, mumbling quietly, pulling you as close as possible.

but please, keep caressing him, keep touching his hairs.

don't throw stones at me, i know it's short!! i left work thinking about it so did it now because my head worked, the previous draft was kinda bad 2. think it's rushed, but it could be because i was thinking fast and it ended up like this--

but anyway! miss u my loves, hope you like that <3 ( megumi will still have justice here at some point..

[whimsicalpolitical]

what are your thoughts on Ross and reader telling each other their kinks and maybe trying a few? new content of Ross has me going crazyyy

okay okay I have a few 🫨, 18+mdni

Hair pulling:

To start with. Ross’ hair is really fucking long right? That means you can properly pull it and he’s soo fucking into it.

He’s lazily thrusting into you, his hand clutching yours next to your head and his mouth is somewhere in between your neck, sucking, biting and groaning against your skin when you clench around him.

When he repeatedly hits the spot that makes you go weak you can’t help but move your hand from his lower back to the nape of his neck, your fingertips digging into his scull before tugging at his dark hair.

“Jesus fucking christ,” is his first reaction, his hips faltering and his teeth on his bottom lip, needing to focus before finishing too soon.

“Sorry-“ you apologize out of breath, thinking you hurt him.

Ross shakes his head though and swallows, “don’t apologize,” he groans, grabbing your leg and wrapping it around his back, “do that again?”

Your fingers are hovering near his head and Ross hums in permission. You stroke his hair for a moment before tugging, just as hard as the last time.

“Oh, fuckin hell,” he groans, your move pulling the same reaction out of him as it did a minute ago.

Ross’ pace increases, moving in and out of you, holding your leg in place while your hand never leaves his hair again.

“Like that?” You ask giggling.

He rolls his eyes, catching the look on your face. “Don’t look so bloody pleased with yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you say, but you’re obviously lying, and he knows it. You lean in, fingers tugging at his hair just slightly, testing, and his breath catches. His eyes flutter closed, and the sight of it, the way his lips part with a soft sigh, does something to you.

“Thought you said you liked it,” you say, pulling back just enough to whisper it against his jaw.

“Didn’t say to take the piss, did I?” he mutters, but he’s already leaning into you, clearly not as annoyed as he sounds. You laugh, pulling his hair a little harder, and he lets out this low, involuntary moan that makes your stomach twist.

“Ross,” you say, pretending to be stern, even though your own voice is breathless.

You kiss him hard, fingers curling tighter in his hair. He makes another one of those sounds, this time more desperate, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

“MacDonald, discover a new kink?”

“Don’t—” he tries to catch his breath, and you can tell you’re driving him a little mad. “You- bloody hell.” He’s laughing now, but it’s shaky, almost nervous, and you love it.

“Was that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s—” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut. “Shit, yes, alright?”

“‘Alright?’” you mock, loving how undone he sounds. “Sounds like you more than like it.”

“You’re a nightmare.”

Mutual Masturbation:

One of your biggest fucking turn ons, kind of teasing for yourself, is watching Ross touch himself.

You’re both absolutely drunk after a night out and when you grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen he’s man spreading on the couch, wearing black jeans and a black sweater which is not covering his stomach.

Your eyes drop to his happy trail that disappears in his pants.

You gulp, smirking and watching him lock eyes with you.

“Alright there?” He asks, one of his hands smoothing the sides of his hair.

“Mhm,” you hum, taking a sip of your glass.

You stride towards him but instead of sitting as close to him as possible you sit at the end of the couch, draping a blanket over your lap.

Ross is scoffing trying to pull you over, “what are you doing?”

You giggle into your glass and push him back with your foot.

“Can I ask you to do something?” You ask innocently.

“Ask away, love.”

He leans back again, his hand still grasping your ankle and watching your every move.

You press your foot down lightly against his crotch, feeling the heat of him through the denim. Ross’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth curving up in a slow grin, one that’s equal parts warning and promise.

“That’s dangerous, love,” he says, his voice dropping low, almost a growl. He catches your ankle with one firm hand, holding you in place.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down. “Can you touch yourself?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “Please.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, the teasing look fading, replaced by something more intense.

Ross laughs, “you’re pissed, are you not?”

You lean your head forward to attach your lips to his jawline and then his neck. You leave wet kisses there before you pull back again.

“Perfectly fine, Ross. It was just a request I-,” you sigh, “if you’re not in the mood we can-.”

“Piss off,” he chuckles, “can’t just make me hard and then pretend that I don’t want this. Elaborate though, darling, how’d you want me to touch myself.”

“Uh,” you blush, smiling and already feeling tingles in your lower stomach, “just- please, make yourself feel good, for me?”

Slowly, he lets go of your foot, guiding it off his lap, his fingers lingering a moment too long as they slide down your calf. His own hand moves to the waistband of his jeans, fingers playing casually with the button, but he’s still watching you—waiting.

“Bold request,” he says raising his eyebrows, “I’ll do anything you want me to do though, d’you know that?”

“Mhm,” you nod, glancing up at his face for a split second before your eyes drop to his fingers who are slowly unzipping his fly.

Ross laughs, “I see.”

He doesn’t stop looking at you. He doesn’t stop when his hand sneaks inside his pants, brushing his fingers across his bulge over his boxers. You can’t see though- but that’s exactly what he wants.

He doesn’t lose his composure yet, smiling when you pout and kick your foot against his thigh, “you’re unfair.”

“Am I?” He asks, squeezing his cock, hissing while doing so, “got to tell me exactly what you want then.”

“Wanna watch,” you reply instantly, “please.”

You lean forward again, sliding his hand out of his pants and he lets you. He’s stronger than you but he’s enjoying this.

You slip your hand beneath his boxers, connecting your hand with his hard cock and slowly stroking him.

“I so badly want to watch, Ross,” you pout, your face as close as possible to his. Like this, you notice his eyes going darker.

“Hands off then and move to the end of the couch.“

You eagerly nod and move back to your spot, licking your lips when your boyfriend finally lifts his hips and pulls his jeans down to his ankles and then sliding them off completely.

Now, he's only in his boxers, the outline of him clear beneath the fabric, and you catch a glimpse of wetness where he's already leaking. He notices the way your eyes dart down, and a wicked smile spreads across his lips.

“Didn’t know you were into something like this.”

“Me neither,” you joke.

It doesn’t take long until Ross needs more than little touches over his boxers. When he tugs himself out he groans and immediately wraps his fist around himself.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, his hand in a slow, deliberate movement.

“Yes,” you breathe out, unable to look away.

Ross laughs softly but it’s quickly replaced by his breath hitching when he squeezes his tip.

“Feels a bit weird, though, just you, watching.”

“A bad weird?”

“No,” he says quickly, “not bad at all, just different, a good different.”

The first time he breaks eye contact is when he throws his head back as he starts to speed up, his cock glistening with his pre cum.

“Fuckin’ christ,” he groans, “didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight.”

You bite your lip and watch every move while you open your the buttons of your blouse.

Ross’ eyes drop down to your breasts and can’t help but let a groan slip again.

“Take it off,” he orders, pointing to your black lace bra.

You do as he says, your body completely in his control.

“Absolutely gorgeous, love, want you to feel good as well.”

He tilts his head back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, and you take the opportunity to lean in closer, your lips parting as you drink in the sight of him. When his gaze snaps back to yours, there’s a wildness there that sends a thrill down your spine.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice ragged. “You’re too good at this, love.” He’s starting to lose control, you can see it in the way his hips jerk up into his hand, the way his brows draw together as he struggles to keep his composure.

Your breath catches, and you let out a soft, involuntary moan, the sound slipping out before you can stop it. His eyes widen, dark and burning with desire, and he swears softly under his breath.

“Touch yourself,” he orders suddenly, his voice rough with urgency. “Wanna see you, too.”

“Fucking perfect,” he mutters, his eyes raking over you with undisguised hunger. His hand falters for just a moment before he picks up the pace, his gaze fixed on the way you move.

You copy his moves from earlier, your hands opening the fly of your jeans and pulling them down.

You can feel the flush spreading over your skin, but you don’t look away, not even when your own hand dips down, pressing against the ache between your legs. He’s watching every movement, his eyes hungry and desperate, and you can tell he’s close—so close to the edge.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, his voice almost reverent, and you can feel the sincerity in his words.

“You too,” you manage to say, your voice shaky but genuine. “I... I love watching you.”

His lips twitch into a shy smile, his eyes softening. “Yeah?” he asks, almost disbelieving. You nod quickly, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

“Yeah,” you echo, and he chuckles quietly.

For a while, there’s no sound but the shaky breaths you’re both taking. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, but he opens them again almost immediately, like he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you.

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “Want to see you like this, keep going, love.”

You shudder at the intensity of his gaze, feeling the warmth pool low in your belly as you move in time with him. He’s letting himself go now, completely caught up in the moment, and you can see the tension building in his body.

Suddenly, his breath hitches, and he stares at you, eyes wide and desperate.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he mumbles, “I’m close-“

“Me too,” you whisper, your hand trembling slightly as you match his pace.

His eyes flick to your hand, watching every movement with a kind of reverence that makes your heart flutter.

“That’s perfect, just like that, love. Do it like I would, that’s right.”

He talks you through it, making sure you feel as good as he does.

“Oh fuck-“ he groans, hips thrusting up and his hand moving faster than ever, “jesus.”

Finally, he lets out a low, shaky groan, his movements growing frantic as he reaches the edge. He doesn’t look away from you, not even for a second, his gaze holding yours with a kind of intensity that takes your breath away. And then he’s gone, shuddering with the release as his eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping his lips.

You follow right after, the sound of his voice and the sight of him enough to send you over the edge, your own quiet gasps mingling with his. The world narrows to just the two of you, the warmth of the shared moment wrapping around you like a cocoon.

When it’s over, you both sit there, breathing heavily and staring at each other with a kind of wonder. There’s a long, quiet beat before he lets out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“That was... something,” he says, his voice rough but gentle, like he’s still catching his breath. There’s a faint smile on his lips, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah,” you say, a little dazed. “Something.”

He reaches for you then, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. It’s not about anything physical anymore—it’s just the warmth and comfort of being close. You curl into him, resting your head on his chest, and he lets out a contented sigh, his fingers playing with your hair.

Public quickies:

Especially when Ross was on tour and you’ve been accompanying him in the small tourbus the lack of intimacy is getting to you.

One time after a concert you immediately pull him aside and into some random storage room.

You don’t waste another second and attach your lips to his, your hand pulling his bun and swallowing the groan he lets out.

The both of you pull back when you can’t breathe anymore.

“Alright, m’ not complaining, love, but that’s not really comfortable in here, no?”

You stare at him and roll your eyes playfully, “where else, Ross. We literally don’t have any private time.”

“I know,” he breathes out, his hand rubbing over his forehead, “not long from here, remember? And we’re in a hotel next week.”

“That’s good but still, need you now.”

You press your forehead against his, feeling his warm breath mingling with yours. His eyes are half-lidded, filled with a kind of yearning that matches your own. You move your hands down, fingers finding the buckle of his belt. You’re not wasting time, your hands trembling slightly with urgency. Ross is breathing heavier now, his lips hovering inches from yours, teasing and tantalizing. He lets out a low chuckle.

"Impatient, are we?" he whispers, but there's a rasp to his voice that betrays his own need.

"Ross," you say, your voice a mix of frustration and longing. You tug at his belt until it gives way, loosening the leather strap and unbuttoning his jeans. He’s still grinning, but his breath hitches when your hand slips below his waistband, the teasing smirk dropping for a second.

You’re desperate now, fumbling to push your panties down, the soft fabric sliding past your thighs. He catches your wrist, his touch gentle but firm.

"Darling," he murmurs, "slow down a second, yeah? It’ll hurt if we don’t—"

"I'm fine, Ross," you interrupt, pressing your lips to his to stop him from saying anything else. "I’m okay, I promise."

But he doesn’t release your wrist. Instead, he pauses, staring at you as if weighing his options. The air is thick between you, your heart thudding against your ribcage. Then he cups your face with one hand, the other moving to slide beneath your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

“Just... let me,” he says, softer now, but with a hint of command that sends shivers down your spine. His thumb brushes over your cheek, grounding you for just a second. “I want to take care of you.”

The gentleness in his eyes tugs at something inside you, but the heat bubbling between you both is relentless. You bite back a groan, arching closer, pressing yourself against him. He’s hard beneath the fabric of his jeans, and you can tell he’s holding himself back, wanting to draw this out just a bit longer. It’s maddening.

"Ross, please," you manage, voice catching.

That does it. With a groan of his own, Ross’s restraint snaps. He’s kissing you back harder now, urgent and hungry. His hands move quickly, pushing your panties all the way down.

Ross’s fingers trace the inside of your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, and you’re almost dizzy with want. He’s everywhere at once, lips on your neck, hands sliding up your sides, his hips pressing closer until there’s no space left between you.

You reach for him again, pulling his jeans down over his hips, your hands desperate and eager. The denim catches, and he laughs softly against your ear.

“Would you just let me take care of you. You’re absolutely needy today.”

But you don’t care. You need him, need this, and it shows in the way you slide your hand down, gripping him through his boxers. He hisses, biting down gently on your shoulder as his own hand slides between your legs, fingers brushing just where you need them most.

“God, you’re drenched,” he mutters, voice reverent, as if the realization floors him. His thumb circles your clit just enough to make your breath hitch, and he’s grinning again, the teasing bastard.

“Ross,” you gasp, your hips moving instinctively against his hand. He pulls back to look at you, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, and it’s almost too much to bear.

“I’ve got you,” he promises, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you closer, lips finding yours once more as his fingers slip inside, and you’re lost to the sensation.

You barely register your own moan as he moves, his touch skilled and knowing, each stroke sending you spiraling. He’s watching you, his gaze unwavering, as if memorizing every expression on your face. You can tell he’s getting off on it—the way you’re falling apart beneath his touch, and it only makes you want him more.

“Now,” you whisper, almost desperately, tugging at his waistband, needing more, needing him inside you, “please, Ross, now.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, and then he’s moving with you, his own breaths ragged. His belt drops to the floor, and then there’s nothing between you but heat and want and the closeness you’ve both been craving.

When he pushes inside, there’s a moment of perfect stillness—a pause, just to feel, just to breathe. He’s gentle, despite the urgency, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice barely more than a breath, lips brushing against yours, his hands cradling you like you’re the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

“More than okay,” you murmur, kissing him fiercely, rocking your hips in response.

And then it’s all heat and movement, the sounds of hurried breaths and gasps filling the cramped space, your bodies finding a rhythm that’s frantic and desperate. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he responds in kind, his own groans mixing with yours, holding you closer as if you might disappear.

“Christ, I love you,” he breathes against your mouth, and you can’t think, can’t do anything but feel as the pressure builds, white-hot and overwhelming. You cling to him, fingers tangled in his hair, his body moving against yours until the world shatters and you’re both lost, falling, together.

“Love you- right there,” you moan.

His hands grip your hips firmly, anchoring you to him as he thrusts deeper, his rhythm becoming a little more urgent. You’re breathless, barely able to keep up with the way he’s looking at you, as if you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

He moves his hand down, his thumb finding your clit, and he presses down in slow, firm circles. The added sensation is almost too much, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes your lips, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“God, Ross,” you gasp, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline, your body arching into his touch. “Please, I— I’m so close.”

“I know, darling,” he says, his own voice strained, his breathing heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His thumb moves in perfect rhythm with his hips, applying just the right amount of pressure, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come on, love. Let go for me, yeah? I want to feel you fallin’ apart.”

You’re right there, teetering on the edge, every nerve ending aflame, and then his hips stutter slightly, his restraint faltering as he feels you clenching around him, tight and desperate.

“Bloody hell,” he groans, his grip on you tightening. “You’re squeezin’ me so good, love. Keep goin’—just like that.”

Your body responds to his words, your muscles tightening around him as you feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter. You’re trembling now, your hands gripping his shoulders so hard you’re sure it’ll leave marks. His thumb is relentless, his hips snapping into you with a delicious roughness, and his breathing is uneven, his control barely holding.

“Ross,” you cry out, unable to hold back, “I— I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, darling,” he encourages, his voice low and coaxing, his thumb pressing down just a bit harder, his hips faltering as he loses himself in the feeling of you. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

His words are all it takes. You break, your entire body going taut as the pleasure crashes over you, wave after wave, leaving you breathless and gasping. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, and he lets out a low, guttural groan, his own restraint finally snapping.

“God, love,” he mutters, his voice tight as he thrusts into you one last time, his own release hitting him hard as he shudders, his grip on you fierce. “Bloody perfect, you are.”

You’re both clinging to each other, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high, hearts pounding in sync. His fingers trace gentle circles along your back, grounding you as the haze of pleasure slowly begins to fade.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, a satisfied smile on his face.

“You alright, love?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek softly, his voice warm and tender.

You let out a shaky laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips. “More than all right,” you say, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him close again. “I’d say that was... well worth the wait.”

“Yeah, but next time, we’re findin’ somewhere a bit more comfortable, yeah?” He glances around at the storage room, smirking. “As romantic as this… ‘ambiance’ is.”

You roll your eyes, smacking his shoulder playfully. “Oh, hush. It’s not like we had many options, Ross.”

He pulls you close again, arms wrapping around you, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Well, I’d say this was the best ‘quickie’ I’ve ever had, love.”

You both laugh, still tangled together, and in that cramped little room, you feel like the world outside could disappear, and you’d still be perfectly content.

[dangerouslyboring]

even this wouldn't be close enough

[screampied]

‘ BIG OLE FREAK !! ★

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso, sukuna. whipped jujutsu kaisen men who can’t last a second without you or your puśsy.

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, overstim, pussydrunk men, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving) messy eating, car sēx (geto), slight dom choso, manhandling, boob fondling, size kinks, brēeding, phone sēx (toji), fıngering, premature ejac, impact play, dirty talk, praise.

an. thank you megan thee stallion

☆ GOJO: “HE THROW A FIT WHEN I LEAVE HIM.”

“but babyyy,” satoru pouts, pink rumpled lips curling up into a frown once you start to moderater slow your hips down. “hmph. missed you all day today,” and you moan, feeling his hot breath aerate into the inner junction of your neck. he’s so touchy, he’s got two open hands pasted to your active torso as you’re being fucked dumb. as you’re bouncing on his cock, that same canorous drawn out moan that rips from your throat never fails to sound like a harmony. “fuck, don’t go. don’t leave yet. ‘m not done with my pretty girls.”

and as he babbles his pleads for you to stay a bit longer, his hands creep toward your neglected breasts. his ‘girls’ being you and your tits. so rounded and plump. your nipples were all perky and aroused. he just had to skim a fat thumb near your sensitive nubs. as you’re leisurely riding him in reverse, you let off another moan once his reddened tip thrashes repeatedly against your achy clit. “toru, ngh. you do this everytime,” and with each bounce, your brain starts to short circuit. he’s stretching you open so much that your mouth sags open. “fuck, you’re such a brat.”

“your brat, baby,” he coos, correcting you in a sweet voice against your ear. his tone was forevermore cheeky. despite how you were ferociously riding him stupid, he still had a bit of playfulness left in him. vigorously, sharp swats of loose skin smack against each other in desperate hits and you’re feeling yourself start to froth from such elated pleasure. satoru’s broad hands remain cupped on your tits before he squeezes them, licking a wet long stripe near your neck. “but god, you’re so fuckin’ hot. gonna cum jus’ from your voice, angel.”

panting, your hips swivel in a circular rotation before you roll your eyes—hovering the weight of your knees over and into his bulky thighs. “you’d cum jus’ from me breathing, satoru.”

“you know me so well, heh,” the white-haired male sucks against your tender collarbone. so sweet, but even though he’s trying to tease you he’s already about to cum. satoru presses his thumbs into your sides before groaning gruffly. “fuck, i’m not gonna last baby. s- serious.”

“you never last, ‘toru,” you mewl out sweetly, matching the intervals of his pants.

his towering cock pokes and prods in all the right spots of your cunt repeatedly. sloppy strings of slick stick and glue against his cock and your bare ass as if it was some sort of adhesive substance. you grind your hips quicker into him, watching as he leans his head into your chest. with a gasp leaving out of your pursed lips, satoru then grabs ahold of one of your breasts, merrily popping it into his mouth. “ngh, satoru.” you whine, feeling your tender nipple get fondled by his warm damp tongue. within seconds—his licks turn into sucks and his eyes close, savoring the tasteless taste of your breast in his mouth.

with the way you’re frantically bouncing on his lap, you’re barely even steady anymore and he has to hold your tit in place so it can stay in his mouth without slipping out. satoru doesn’t mind though, as long as he gets a good taste.

your knees continue to dig into his thighs as he’s sucking on each of your tits — you whimper, watching as his pretty snowy white lashes flutter close. he’s got the most pussy-drunken grin curving against his face, faint dimples making an appearance near the crevices of his lips. he’s so pretty, you can’t help but wrap an arm around him, holding him close. “s- so good,” he whines, briefly removing his mouth from your plump mounds. with low half-lidded eyes, you watch as strands of thin spit depart away from his lips. he’s so messy, and yet he doesn’t care. satoru catches you staring before he licks near your chin real slow and seductive like. “i know ‘m pretty baby but i didn’t say you could s- stop riding m— fuck.”

he gets crudely cut off by you wrapping a hand around his slim throat, quickening your bouncy hips. satoru moans out a slutty moan and his abs as if on cue, clench and tighten. everything’s so good, he feels like he’s about to break with the way you ride him. he’s in love.

“h- hey, that’s kinda kinky,” he sheepishly says, his cock still thrusting in and out of you. satoru’s just laid back, allowing you to do all the work with your unpredictable hips. you looked so good like this though—straddling on top of him, gradually choking him. he had literal heart eyes in his pupils and your actions only made him ten times more whipped. “shit.”

but you let off a moan once he reached a certain spot after a while. it’s abrupt, and you turn dimwitted almost immediately. satoru ends up getting much closer before you though, because you can tell purely from his body language. with the way your ass circles and throws itself around his pelvis, he’s already done for. that recoil of yours could make anyone hungry for more. “fuck, ‘toruuuu,” you hiss his name, the crude skin slapping of both frail limbs making you bite the inside of your cheek. he’s holding both of your hips before with the rough clashing of rutting bodies, he whines. satoru doesn’t realize he’s cumming until you actually start to feel it pour into you.

it shoots quick into your womb, velvety ropes that make you bite your lip. it’s so so much that you feel hot spurts of it dribble down between your inner thighs. satoru’s panting heavily against your ear, ivory brows curling up together and he’s always got such the prettiest orgasm face.

his mouth remains open and a bit of drool seeps out the cracking corners. you kiss near his swollen lips as he’s dumping yet another load into you. “ughhh,” he shivers, two big hands squeezing your ass for comfort. satoru feels a slimy wad of his cum trickle past your folds and coat onto his base and he stares at it, then at you. he’s got the most feral look in his eyes before he lets off a bashful whimper. “h- have my kids, please.”

☆ TOJI — “AIN’T NOBODY FREAK LIKE ME.”

“c’mon, babygirl. put ‘er on the phone. let me listen,” toji purrs, his voice on the other end of the line raspy yet staticky.

as you sit up on the comforter with your legs prettily sprawled out, you were heavily panting. you missed him, you missed him bad. toji, like usual had work. he never exactly told you what he does for a living nor did you really care to ask. but he’d be away for hours and you couldn’t help but text or call him about your little ‘situation’ whenever you tried to touch yourself. you try to touch yourself in the way that he does but it never works. no one’s fingers could compare to his.

“o- okay,” you swallow, using a thumb to press down against the white speaker button on your phone. pulling the speaker part of the phone down towards your sopping cunt, you grow quiet, letting him get a good listen. right away, you heard the sounds of toji’s heavy breaths. he grows quiet for a good twenty seconds and you’re growing impatient. “toji? are you still th-”

“ah ah. shut the fuck up, baby. ‘m tryna hear my girl,” and you pout, dragging your middle finger down your dribbling pussy. you were a bit overly sensitive, considering. just a few minutes ago, you ended up finishing with the help of your vibrator. his voice was so stern yet you listened anyway. toji feels a strain forming inside the heavy wranglers he wore. you’re so wet, he wishes he was there just as much as you did. toji holds the phone up to his ear before grunting. “spank her for me. tell her i’ll be there real soon.”

you let off another soft moan, bringing a gentle spank towards your weeping cunt. toji hears it all, the sharp contact of your palm that thwacks against your folds goes echoes right through the phone’s speakers. your teeth dig into your bottom lip at the brief pang of pleasure that shortly follows. “toji, please. need you, can’t do this by myself.”

“aw, that’s what you get f’r not waitin’ for me to get home anyway, little girl,” a husky voice replies. you heard the groan trying to wretch from his throat as he spoke. toji was most definitely hard, but you knew more than anything, he hated whenever you touched yourself. especially whenever he wasn’t around, he thinks it’s amusing. “sound so fuckin’ wet though. jus’ pretend y’er fingers are mine, baby.”

slumping back in frustration—you sigh, hearing a gruff cackle follow seconds later. “but i can’t, ‘s not the same, toji. you do it better.”

“damn right, babygirl,” toji snickers, and his voice pitched so deep in a way that you felt yourself throbbing. the creeping timbre that rides his tone makes your toes curl up. you need him bad, it seemed like it’s been years since he’d left but it’s only been just a few hours. by now, two fingers of yours were crumped up in your drooling cunt. you make an attempt at trying to copy how toji usually does it - swirling two fingers around the inside it reaches that spongey texture. you whimper on the phone, invading your gummy walls with twin whirling digits before your pants grow louder against the speaker. “so cute. tryin’ so hard, huh. wish toji was here to spank that pussy right, hm?”

“y- yes,” you chew on your words, chafing trembly pathetic fingers near your needy cunt. you didn’t care how dumb you sounded - you wanted toji to come home. you hadn’t even realized you were now flipped over, grinding against your pillow. technically, his pillow — you were laid on his side of the bed for a reason. in hot sharp breaths, you hold the phone up to your mouth, letting off another elongated moan. toji huffs at your sweet sounds, having to turn his volume down multiple notches due to you being so loud. “toji please, come home. ‘m gonna cum without you again.”

a sly smirk compresses against his lips before he grouses through the phone. “hm. fine, hang up ‘n gimme a sec, baby.”

you didn’t know what kind of trick he had up his sleeve but you hang up. you’re panting so much, it’s almost as if you some kind of dog in hear. your fingers that remain helplessly buried in your cunt felt like they were starting to grow numb. once your thumb presses against the button to end the call, the room suddenly goes quiet.

but abruptly, the front door opens and it’s toji.

you furrow your eyebrows, confused on how he got here so quick but right as you were about to greet him with a hug, he pokes your forehead. “not so fast, baby. y’er in trouble,” and you gasp once he goes toward you, picking you up and tossing you to lie on your chest. with a rude spank, he smacks your ass. “gonna have ‘ta discipline this sloppy pussy all over again. now now, you know the drill. ass up, face fuckin’ down.”

☆ SUKUNA — “NEED YOU TO SPIT MAKE THAT MOTHERF*CKER GLISTEN.”

“tch. can’t hear or are ya jus’ plain stupid, brat? spread ‘em,” sukuna snarls, hovering right over your body.

his dark heightened stare made you gulp - just menacingly looking at you as if you was prey. his prey. crimson red eyes bore into your pretty physique as you left off a shaky breath, slowly spreading your legs apart from him. “good girl. glad ‘ta hear you can follow directions.”

a pout stretches against your lips but that soon switches once his tongue laps against your folds. you shudder, feeling the faint spiky texture of his forked tongue flick down your sobbing cunt in small strokes. from the slit, you’re drenched and he’s been craving a taste for a while. you’re laid back against the mattress whilst your toes involuntarily curl up. when it comes to sukuna, he’s never one to waste his precious time—especially whenever it came to pussy. you let off a whimper the moment he grabs ahold of your thighs, squeezing them in place. “sukuna, fuck.”

you’re met with a rude glower as he’s positioned right between your thighs. he’s moving his head side to side as he creates a long sloppy slurp.

you feel the snapping muscles in your tummy tense as his plump lips then munch against your sensitive clit.

“fuckin’ slut. walkin’ around with a cunt this soaked,” he grumbles in a muffled tone—savoring your sweet taste entirely. your stomach curls up as he’s feasting between your thighs, button tip of his nose occasionally swiping against your slobbering slit. the edges of sukuna’s serrated nails scrap down your skin gently, leaving a few noticeable marks. if it was anything the demon loved to do—it was to mark you, claim you as his. with red eyes meeting yours once more, he growls right against your pussy. “and don’t think about hidin’ those pretty moans from me this time. i wanna hear screams this time, brat.”

“f- fuck,” you whine. using a hand to grab onto the crown of his head, you comb a few fingers through his pink tresses—already feeling the weak pangs of pleasure surge through your thighs. by any second, you just knew your weak legs were gonna collapse. sukuna’s tongue was stupid, swirling everywhere inside of your pussy before his jaw starts to lock right away. “mmm, ‘kuna, spit on it.”

your cunt gets hit with an abrupt smack and you gasp, moaning from the abrupt twinge of throbs before you glance down at him.

“woman don’t tell me how to eat pussy,” he eyes you, voice full of curt. as he’s glaring at you the entire time—sukuna delves two fingers inside your sopping entrance though, scissoring his folds in your core just to watch you squirm. albeit, he does in fact spit on your pussy. it’s a stringy glossy wad, and the way it trails from his pink lips makes you convulse even quicker. sukuna’s eyes remain on you the entire time before he pulls his fingers out, slurping the new lustrous mess clean. “was gonna do that anyway, little girl.”

you almost giggle from his irritation before he playfully bites your clit — you whine, yanking his unkempt strands forward and he groans. “easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he murmurs, and as he pulls his head up a bit for air, you glance at the slick sheet of your own juices streaming down his chin. so pretty, it’s got its own kind of shine. to think that’s coming all from you, you were drenched.

“sorry,” you timidly utter, slumping back against the plump pillows. sukuna rolls his eyes at you in response, creating tender kisses against your soddened folds. with the way your thighs were trembling, it was adorable. you couldn’t stay still to save your life. he was sucking everything out of you, vacuuming all of your juices with just his mouth. the slurps were so lewd and loud that it bounced off the walls. “ohmygoddd.” you squeal, growing more whiny the harder his sucks become. sukuna’s pace of his tongue never falters and every few seconds, he spits against your pussy just to lap it right back up again.

the demon groans, staring at his mess he made. his own saliva pours down your slit and its pretty.

he drags a middle finger down, dipping it inside of your wet folds. the noises you made too were just carnal. sloshes of crying squelches reverberate through his royal chambers and he snickers. how pathetic, getting this soaked for someone like him. sukuna doesn’t care that his jaw tightens and locks. he groans, slowly trailing his tongue everywhere. he even guides it toward your puckering hole that’s drooling with slick too.

“can’t forget about her,” he groans, feeling himself get hard. sukuna most definitely had a boner, he had one every time he went down on you. “fuckin’ sloppy girl. ‘s exactly what you are,” and he moves his tongue back up toward your cunt before starting to tongue fuck you. you moan, still having a hand attached to his hair like it was velcro. “my sloppy girl though. ain’t that right?”

and before you were about to speak again, he spanks your cunt raw, spurts of your wetness slicking another glossy sheet onto his palm. sukuna’s eyes are at your pussy, barely even acknowledging your presence anymore. “keh. thought so. good girl.”

☆ NANAMI — “MY BODY ADDICTIVE IT’S DRIVIN’ HIM CRAZY.”

gentle fawn eyes ogle at you up and down as you’re prettily sprawled out on the bed. nanami can’t help but press a soft kiss onto your forehead as he’s slowly inserting himself inside.

“so perfect,” he murmurs, showering your skin with even more kisses. his lips were tender. you feel the prodding tip of his cock gradually disappear inside of your cunt before you exhale deeply. “mhm, always clamp around me so good. that’s it just relax. eyes on me, gorgeous.”

you look up at him and nanami’s face softens. teasingly, he tilts his head as he sees you biting your lip—making a cute attempt at trying to suppress any incoming moans. “hi, my love,” a gruffly sweet tone utters to you, softly gripping your chin. “there’s those pretty eyes i fell in love with.”

“k- kento,” you whimper, your back involuntarily starting to arch the further he pushes his dick inside. nanami groans, feeling himself being in brief shock by just how warm you were from the inside. whine after whine robs out of your throat before he’s trying to get you adjusted—he’s already starting to feel your slick treacle juices slabber down his lengthy base. it’s a squelching ‘pop’ once he’s finally in and his slender long fingers intertwine with yours. “fuck, kento.”

nanami shakes his head from each swear that comes from your lips. it’s cute. blond brows curl up together before he gently lifts up your leg, making it sling up over his tense right shoulder.

“my my, you’ve got quite the filthy mouth, honey,” and his words were as smooth as silk. as he’s making sure not to be too rough, his body continues to rut into you, respectfully pounding you into the creamy cottony sheets. a thumb of his curls against your bottom lip before he deepens his angle just a tad bit. “m- my love, oh,” and for a split second, nanami’s voice cracks. your cunt’s so good and drenched that he for one was practically speechless. nanami squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. he huffs out individual heavy pants from his full lungs before his hands roam all over your body. you were perfect, his fingers were hot and burning with parched heat - the same kind of heat that radiates against your skin. he’s hovering over your body, tenderly grinding his sharpened hips into you whilst his mushroom tip repeats to thrash against your throbbing clit.

nanami was always respectful when he fucks. missionary was forever his favorite because of the loving eye contact.

he’s stuffing you full of inches while staring right in your eyes, serenading you with a song of all the right compliments. you’d always throb, feeling that same mixture of glutinous slick trickle its way down your thighs. “kento don’t stop, please,” your arms throw around him, using a thumb to strum down his fading undercut. it’s soft, bristles of hair glide against your digit before the screeching squelches of your pussy abruptly snap you back to reality. as the bed wails and dips from the constant jerks and jarring movement - you start to grow dumb. his cock stretches right through you, curling its way into your walls while making its very mark. with the way your mouth was hanging open, he can’t help but silence your sweet forbidden moans with a kiss. “mmph.”

moans, now muffled get poured into his lips as his body continues to shift against you. he’s so warm that it’s almost a burning hot. nanami’s hands gingerly run down your skin, touching you everywhere just so he can feel you shiver from his contact. “i know, i know,” he whispers between sultry kisses, briefly sucking against your bottom lip. his balls were always swollen whenever it came to you. you whine, feeling a few strands of his hair tickle against your forehead—he’s so close. minty breath gets caught by your nostrils as your legs wrap themselves around his waist. “that’s it. jus’ let me love you, let your husband remind you how perfect you are, good girl.”

his words create a school of fluttering butterflies in your tummy. nanami can’t keep his hands off you, literally. he touches everywhere, nipping a few kisses at your skin as he’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he’s purring against your nude flesh as you try to match his crazed pace. “kento, ‘m gonna cum. gonna cum, fuckk,” you suddenly babble out, shaking directly underneath him. you were so cute—his eyes soften as you’re stammering about your incoming release. plump soft lips press against your forehead as he’s still sweetly driving his hips into your walls. “please.”

by this point, both lips were departed from each other and he’s got two buff arms resting on opposite sides of your body. the smell of the air in the room was almost too strong. a mixturing scent of sweat and devoted bodies moving together in harmony. he groans into your neck, pressing a few more kisses at your skin. “c’mon, you can make a mess on me,” and he cups your face, witnessing right before his eyes as you’re about to approach your calamitous rapture. it’s like a wave but it’s crashing at full speed. you whine, collected breaths starting to pick up as the crown of his cock steadily thrashes around the shallow depths insides of your swollen cunt. nanami can feel your throbbing intensify and he starts to grow just a bit more relentless with his tempo. “make a mess, yeah. ‘s okay, your husband’s gonna clean you right up like always.”

nanami’s words were so sweet — he’s talking you through it whilst he’s got his hands cupping your face. strangled moans die from your throat before one tap of his cock against that spot was the final straw. your pussy constricts around his thickset base before you whimper. “f- fuuuuck,” a long moan leaves out of you as the build up pressure finally releases. his body lies flat against you as he’s gradually slowing down, whispering all sorts of praises against your ear in a shaky voice as you’re finally coming undone on his weighty shaft. your eyes widen before you bite into his neck, muffling your loud moans as you cream all the way down to his hilting base.

you’re speechless—and with your breath literally being taken away from you, your arms remain fragile, thrown over nanami’s shoulders. again, you’re met with the most kindest fawn eyes and he sheepishly smiles at you, sweat beads racing down the sides of his forehead. “such a good girl. even as a mess you’re still so p- perfect— fuck,”and he chokes up on his sentence, his voice suddenly turning raspy. your cunt grips him tight, never wanting to let go and he grits his teeth at the feeling. mousy dilated pupils flicker back until a flashing color of white could only be seen from his sockets. it was sexy, nanami loses himself for a moment before he slumps into your chest, hiccuping at how he came and sounded so so lewd—so pussy drunken all of a sudden. “oh, forgive me for my foul language m- my love. you really—made a mess out of me too it seems.”

☆ GETO — “THESE WINDOWS TINTED SO NOBODY SAW.”

“that’s my good girl,” geto leans back against the leather driver seat, occasionally using a palm to swat against your ass.

he’s smacking the right cheek specifically, featuring skin against skin sticking amongst each other from the perspiring sweat. he groans at the springy recoil your ass gives him every time before he gives your rear a squeeze. “fuckin’ ride it, yeah. slut this sloppy pussy all over me, sweetheart.”

“s- suguru,” you whine staring deep into his eyes. he’s so pretty, lazily slouched and reclined back with the most smuggest grin on his lips. the only sounds that could be heard in the parked vehicle was the sounds you, your sloppy cunt, and the loud bangs of raindrops that hit against his tinted windows. you continue to grind your hips into him before he spanks your ass again and again. “fuck, ‘s big. you’re always so fuckin’ big.”

“someone complaining?” he raises a brow, although you know he’s just teasing. like always, he’s watching as you struggle to keep up your pace. his fat cock was perfectly tugged into your walls and you felt like at any given moment, he’d split your pretty pussy open. “hm?” he opens his mouth tauntingly, the car’s entire build starting to jerk and judder from the powerful movements. a hand of his cups your chin before he rubs a thumb over your spit-glossed lips. “yeah, no back talk now huh, princess. less talkin’ more riding, uh huh.”

you wanted to roll your eyes but you couldn’t. he’s staring at you and eating up all of your dramatic facial expressions. the way your brows knead together and your lips part — that sweet sweet ‘o’ that forms from your mouth prying open, blissful whines tearing from your windpipe. he’s so thick, it’s almost unfair. the car continues to shake as your bouncing against his dick progresses at a more hurried speed. “s- shut up suguru.”

“ooh,” he hums, teasingly starting to bounce his thigh. even more friction, and both rows of your teeth clench together before you let off a sweet battle-crying moan. right there, his tip starts to smack and kiss up against a stretchy part that’s dug directly into your walls. you feel it and multiple hairs stand up near the nape of your neck. geto watches as your eyelids become droopy and you’re already so dick-drunk. it’s adorable, weak arms of yours toss themselves over his broad built shoulders and you feel a sudden quiver shockwave inside your thighs. “yeah, fuck me girl. don’t slow down. give it t’ me. shut me up with your pussy, how ‘bout that, huh.”

you give him a glare but geto only snickers, bringing another open palm toward your left ass cheek to spank it. you moan, your angered scrunched up muscles in your face relaxing before you whimper. “fuck, fuck,” and his turgid balls resume to pummel all through your gripping walls. there’s a candied taste in your mouth, the quicker you ride him—the more you taste it. it’s salty, bittersweet until your throat starts to leisurely grow dry. geto groans, sliding his foot away from the brake before he grabs ahold of your hips once more. “suguru, ‘m gettin’ close, fuck.”

“yeah, yeah,” he huffs, dark eyes glancing toward your chest — he observes the way your tits bounce, matching your rhythm by slamming you further down on his cock. it’s so cute, you were an entire mess. whilst you’re losing yourself on his dick, he pulls you close into him. “easy. baby. slow down a bit for me. ‘s not a rush, mhm,” and as his husky voice purrs into your ear, your cunt throbs. he even flicks his tongue against the shell of your ear just to hear you whimper louder. his cologne was loud, invading the entire space of the car. it was a mixture of burning leather and geto’s rich manly scent. it was no denying, he smelled so good that it was just intoxicating. obediently, you start to slow your hips crazed tempi to his liking and he sexily throws his head back - adam’s apple bobbing in response. “fuck, yeah. right there, jus’ like that. i gotcha. nice ‘n slow, good fuckin’ girl.”

the sounds of your sopping pussy only get louder before his teeth tenderly bite into your neck. you moan, feeling a balmy chill ghost near the hairs that run down your collarbone. he’s letting you fuck yourself stupid and it’s almost like you were floating. whining, you reach between your legs to feel your convulsing cunt. you’re close, so close.

“s- sugu,” you whimper, feeling that familiar sensation of heat swimming its way toward the lower pits of your stomach. “fuck, fuck.”

“cum with me baby,” he coos to you, guiding your hips with two big hands. your ears felt like they were constantly popping the more you rode him. he’s groaning from your sloppy rhythm and how good your ass thwacks and thwacks. against him. but just as he whispered those words—geto squints his eyes at his rear view mirror. with a hand still attached to your hips, he spots a luminescent light mixture of blue and red. he grows sheepish, realizing he probably shouldn’t have pulled over at this particular spot. .

as you’re still riding him, he grunts as he spots the officer steeping out. slouching back against the driver seat and running a hand through his darkened sable locks, he sighs.

“well shit.”

☆ CHOSO — “I GOT ‘EM ADDICTED HE FIENDIN’.”

“princess, y’know i don’t like when you run from me,” choso groans, reeling your hips back into him.

you gasp, hearing the slight rasp in his tone. his thick cock plummets through your walls and without the support of his hands, you’d have well collapse on the mattress. your limbs were already weak and flimsy enough as it was. he’s been fucking you for hours, nonstop. choso couldn’t get enough. “c’mere, don’t run from me.”

a tiny whine pours from your lips as you feel a few fingers of his curl around your neck. your back naturally arches and you bite your lip. “fuck, ‘cho,” you huff, the sharp smacks of your hips roughly hitting against his pelvis making him hiss. his favorite part. dark irises glance down toward your ass before he spanks you. one spank turns into one, then two, then three. the bed cries from the combining pounds of weight as he’s drilling into you, having the stamina equivalent to a stallion. “ohmygod, choso. right there baby, ngh.”

your lewd little moans alone were enough to get him off. arched thin brows tug together as he drags you back closer into him. he’s still got a hand wrapped around your throat before he pushes his hips further into you at full throttle.

“mhm, good girl. take it, fuckin’ take it,” and you can hear the hoarse in his tone pitching his delivery. your cunt’s weak ily squelching and squealing out all kinds of noises. you were soaked. choso’s droopy eyes continue to stare down your ass, spotting a few sweat droplets race down your spine. “so pretty. all mine, pussy’s all mine,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and your ass gets met with another smack. “c’mon, baby. gotta meet me halfway though. arch better, yeah?”

“s- sorry,” you sheepishly murmur, feeling another incoming moan try to choke its way out of your throat. he’s hitting you so deep, choso’s ravaging your walls and massaging them thoroughly. every part, every corner, every crevice. through and through—you straighten your arch before feeling his hips grind slower into you. with his pace, it’s almost hypnotic. “shit,” you whimper, trying to match his sudden changed rhythm. he’s fucking you slow but deep, tongue already starting to loll out. “choso, ‘m gonna cum.”

you hear a scoff before he leans further in, planting a wet kiss near your back. “nuh uh. not yet,” and with a piston of his hips, he lightly pushes your head into the silky sheets with a hand. “fuck, soakin’ me so good, princess. nasty girl,” he breathes, hearing your gurgled moans escape from your lips. your pussy was almost louder than you — a plethora of sloppy sounds sing out of your folds and he purposely grows quiet just to hear it. “heh, love when she does that. always got so much to say.”

“c- choso,” you squeak, shimmying your hips back into him. the dark-haired male can’t help but press two thumbs into your hips, feeling against the entire curvature - so pretty. you had his entire cock drenched with your gooey slick and he only wanted more. you’re pawing desperately at the satiny sheets to hang on as he’s continuing to jut his fat cock further into you. “ngh, cumming!”

choso holds your hips steadily in place—but he groans, feeling his swollen balls approach its peak at the same exact time. thick fingers of his pierce into your skin before abruptly, a geyser ripples right out your folds. you’re creaming all down his cock, gasping before he shortly follows. it’s runny, pumps and pumps of sweltering hot cum dribbles into your sobbing cunt. choso’s hair was shaggy, few black tresses of strands stick against his skin with the help of clingy sweat before he growls. “fuck . . me,” and his chiseled abs clench with his head throwing itself back. yet as he’s stuffing you full of load, his hips start up again and you let off a moan. “baby, can’t let it go to waste. keep up, need it. need you.”

you let off a moan, ruthlessly being pounded into the fat cushions of the mattress before unexpectedly—you hear a ear splitting crack. choso ignores it, still driving his hips deeply into your core before that’s right when the headboard falls with a blaring shatter. your eyes widen as you flinch at the now broken furniture—feeling the weight of the bed collapse inward. the bed breaks but chcoso’s entirely unfazed. “c- choso, the bed b- broke.”

“so?”

“s- so?” you moan, his blushing tip repeatedly kissing up against your swollen sweetest spots. “the bed’s broken—”

“baby, ‘s okay,” a low voice murmurs, watching with blown pupils as your slick coats an entire translucent colored ring around his hefty base. choso groans, licking his lips before slowly pulling out, only to plug his weeping spilling cum right back into your cunt.

“don’t worry about the bed. gonna break your pussy next, anyway, heh.”

[miioouu]

Ghost’s New neighbour

3am thoughts i guess or whatever.

Tw: Suggestive…

Whatever you do, don't imagine yourself as Simon’s cute little neighbour.

Don't imagine the first day you moved in, how you went to press the button of the elevator to take you to your new apartment, but a large, rough hand beat you to it. Behind you a large, intimidating man that made you shiver from solely his cold presence.

Don't imagine how he'd take up over half of the elevator, filling the space with a scent of musk and…gunpowder? And the elderly couple and their two dogs rushing in at the last second doesn't help, making you squeeze and press against the massive man.

Don't imagine how your skin littered with goosebumps; his stance, demeanour and cold eyes the cause, or maybe it was the tight black compression shirt that outlined his abs, his slightly loose pants that did nothing to hide his sheer size.

Don't imagine how you have to hold in your breath as your ass brushes against his thigh, making you close your eyes as you try to ignore the heat emitting from him. And as if that's not enough to have your mind spiralling, he moves to stand directly behind you, pressing his bulge against the curve of your ass, is he doing it on purpose, or was it really necessary to press the button to his floor, even though you pressed the same number only a few seconds ago?

Whatever you do, don't imagine how he'd slowly rock his hips, casually, in soft waves as his fingers brush against your wrists. you have to pretend as if nothing is wrong as you answer the couple's questions politely, trying go get to know you, trying to be friendly neighbours

“Come over later, 8:30 pm sharp, I don't appreciate tardiness” he’d say in a low tone, his lips inches away from our ear as he slips past you, wanting to get off the elevator first.

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 3 — LINGERIE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — kazuha, scaramouche, kinich, alhaitham

— warnings. — fem! reader, fingering/scissoring, lots of teasing, alhaitham is the teasing master in this, hot and bothered genshin boys

⚝ — KAZUHA

"do i look good in this?"

good— was an understatement, and kazuha's breath stays stuck in his throat when he sees you in that dainty, little lace, his eyes widening in awe, admiring your magnificence.

the world around him seems to fade, leaving only you bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and frail garments hugging the curves of your body, "you’re… breathtaking," he whispers, his tone of choice an octave lower.

your fingers reach out to guide him, trembling slightly as his digits trace along the intricate patterns of the fabric— every touch was reverent, his fingertips brushing over the sheer bra exposing your erected nipples to him—fuck, it's as though he can’t decide which was more captivating.

"i can’t believe you’re real," he laughs and brushes away the loose hair strands sticking on his forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.

he pulls himself on top of you before placing his palm on your breast, "so beautiful…" kazuha continues, his glossy lips ghosting over your collarbone, his teeth grazing at the sensitive skin on your neck until he’s certain that there's a little hickey there as you twist and curl underneath him, voicelessly telling him to just touch you already.

and here he was now, in fact, he cannot stop touching you, each caress lingering as though to forevermore memorize the feel of you under his hands.

he slips his digits through the flimsy waistband of your underwear as your walls instantly flex and pulse around his fingers when he inserts them knuckles deep— only one, then after pressing it in and out for about three times, he add another, continuously sinking them into you as he smears harsh circles into your clit to multiply the sensation he's about to give you all night.

⚝ — SCARAMOUCHE

you’re so soft above scaramouche and it only spurs him on, especially with those graceful garments daintily squeezing your frame.

his tongue licks across his bottom lip when he pulls his fingers through the panties to scissor his digits inside your walls, playing with those searing spots he knew got you trembling, got you to beg for more. you're curling into him, squeezing yourself so close for him to add a couple kisses on your throat.

the volume of your voice increases each time scaramouche would find another compliment befitting of the new set of lingerie he's bought you— the wider his smirk gets, the more it means you're squeezing his fingers harder, "just like that, you look so good in this, picked it right for you, yeah?"

you eagerly nod as he feels your warmth clamping when he begins to scissor you, pumping his slender fingers in and out before adding the third.

well, lets be honest here, in the beginning he thought to himself on how ridiculous it must be for him to buy you something like that and he almost went back to return the costly good, yet now? wow, how fucking thankful he was to himself that he didn't.

⚝ — KINICH

"gimme a spin, yeah? like that," kinich smirks as you twirl around the newest set of lingerie, a deep red that hugged around the curves of your breasts and leaves almost no fabric left on your bottom.

and those thigh highs you added on, they made him feel like he's about to absolutely ravish you. kinich's not used to being at a loss for words, well, he keeps himself silent on purpose but with you? seeing you like this he thought he could say something other than look at you like a man who's never seen a woman before.

he was too drunk on the sight and so fucking hard already, feeling a twitch inside his boxers when you kneel down to press a harsh kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through doe eyes— and the next almost cruel throb in his shorts was to die for— this is making him lose his mind. you are.

he bites down on his tongue, his hips rolling into your palm with your lips hovering over the length. palming the front of his trousers, your face slants forward to smear your saliva across his lower abdomen so you'd be perfectly bend across him, making it fairly easy for kinich to watch your pretty ass and your folds barely being covered by anything but a fine silken line.

⚝ — ALHAITHAM

alhaitham's eyes barely flicker up from his book when you step into the room, though there’s a telltale tension in the way his grip tightens on the pages. he acts disinterested, you ponder if that book in his hands had a soul catching story for him to be this way— but you can feel the weight of his gaze when he thinks you aren’t looking.

"sit," he bluntly says, his voice commanding and motioning to his bulgy thigh, but he speaks in a way as though your appearance in such delicate lingerie wasn't affected him— although when you ultimately settle on his lap, he doesn’t miss a beat, his hand immediately reaching to the hem of your lace.

"read the next page for me, think you can do that?" he orders, though there’s a slight edge to his voice that betrays his focus, it's no longer on the book, but on your cute tits and sheer bra prancing with your lovely nipples.

you gulp down, adjusting your seat on his lap as you begin to read while he began to trace lazy patterns along the fabric, his fingertips brushing lightly over the lace, teasing and coaxing out needy shivers from your spine.

so well, his eyes stay fixed on the book, but his hand grows bolder, slipping beneath the edge of the lingerie, feeling your bare skin, "you’re really distracting, you know that?" he mutters, though his smirk says otherwise, "i was only planning to read this book but now—"

there’s a tension in the air, a game he’s playing where he pretends the book holds his attention — but in reality, all he was focused on was you.

day and night, no matter what you'd wear.

his sensitive length twitches against your thigh as your hole squeezes around nothing, your lips exhaling a stutter before he lets his hands squeeze your thighs— your jaw slack in surprise at how bold he began to be, now digging hard between your legs to press into your clit and rub it— his cloudy, bloodshot gaze focused on the pulsing, little pearl getting all the more roused the more he flicked it back and forth.

"i never said you should stop reading," he adds on, "already done for the day, hm? you tired?" a little too nonchalant for your liking.

you pout through your dreamy, lustful expression before you're letting your hand smooth through his hair, lightly pecking his forehead, "fine, but I'm sensitive there alhaitham, be careful."

© 2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[dmitriene]

cw: really strange romance, smelling underwear.

sending your pretty nudes to könig, a man you know only by his name, you didn't see his face, didn't see him standing in front of you in the daylight, you only know that he's a colonel registered in a military program that let's people from the area nearby send some reassuring words to the lone soldiers.

perhaps, your silly head gets a wrong call from this, and your choice of words end where you take a small polaroids of your body posed in provocative way, hand squeezing your breasts through the shirt, stuffed in your flimsy panties, toying with your nipples, your clit, until there's no clothes remained, only clean sheets on the background and your naked, smooth skin under flashed light.

könig is too perverted to tell someone about this type of letters he get's, he's been in the army for long enough to cherish every glimpse of a woman he gets, and when she herself sends himself such a material, he can't offer anything but a gratitude and his boxers sticky and sodden by milky ropes of cum that spill from his jerking cock.

there's nothing but your body, you don't offer your face for him to jerk off, but he's sure you're a right doll, offering your curves to him so easily, always with a small, sweet text that wishes him a good week and much luck on upcoming mission, if only you knew that it's you who make it all better for him.

make könig try his best at each mission so he could tell you about it, knowing he'd get a treat in his next letter from you, not only a photos and praising words, but your panties folded in as well, a sexy pair that is soiled at the gusset, your cum dried there and still prominent with your alluring, cloying scent, making him get rid of his hood with shaky, fumbling fingers, just so he could take a whiff of you, whining.

you get him addicted unknowingly, depending on your attention and sight of your naked body even in his dreams, so it's only a sure thing when he somehow finds out your address, and on the day of mail distribution, it's könig who holds the letter you waited for in his grimey, gloved hand, while you outstretch the letter on your own behalf, but now he's here to see you up close himself.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[littlelamy]

showering with rafe

steam filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror as you stood under the warm spray of the shower. you felt rafe’s arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you close against his chest. his lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses along your skin as you shivered under the warmth of his touch.

“i thought you said you wouldn’t take forever in here,” he teased, his voice a playful murmur against your neck.

“could say the same about you,” you shot back, smiling as his arms tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

he chuckled, reaching for the body wash and squeezing some into his hands, lathering it between his fingers before smoothing it over your shoulders and collarbone. his hands moved slowly, almost teasingly, as he worked the soap into your skin, the bubbles foaming under his touch. you leaned into him, eyes closing as he drifted lower, his hand moving over the curve of your chest.

his touch lingered, and a smile tugged at his lips as he let his fingers brush gently over your nipple, his thumb circling with a playful, gentle pressure. your breath hitched, and he tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, whispering, “just making sure you’re really clean.”

you bit your lip, feeling warmth bloom across your skin, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. rafe’s hands continued their careful path, sliding the soapy lather over your skin, each movement deliberate yet affectionate.

“you don’t have to spoil me, you know,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.

“i like taking care of you,” he whispered back, his voice soft but intense. he turned you to face him, hands resting on your shoulders as he rinsed the soap away, water spilling down your back. his eyes met yours, a mixture of playful and adoring, his hands lingering as he tilted your face up.

you reached for the body wash, feeling a little mischievous as you lathered your hands and pressed your palms to his chest, spreading the soap over his skin with a light, teasing touch. his breath hitched, his hands finding your waist again, grounding you as you trailed your fingers over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles.

“are you trying to distract me?” he smirked, catching your hands and pulling you against him, water cascading down around you both as you met his gaze.

“maybe,” you admitted, grinning as he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. his lips found yours, soft and warm, moving slowly and gently at first, savoring the moment before deepening the kiss.

one of his hands slid up to cup your face, the other wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as the world seemed to dissolve into just the two of you. your fingers threaded through his damp hair, tugging him closer, and he responded with a low hum, kissing you like he had all the time in the world.

you pulled back, breathless, leaning your forehead against his, both of you smiling, caught up in the quiet, intimate moment. he brushed a thumb over your cheek, looking at you with a soft expression you rarely got to see, and it made your heart skip.

“guess this wasn’t such a bad idea,” he murmured, chuckling as you playfully splashed him.

“yeah,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest, “not a bad idea at all.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.