#especially my elbows and knees
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furorsopher · 10 days ago
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i feel like gotta rotate all my joints 360 degrees in both directions for them to stop feeling weird or hurt
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i-am-just-a-skeleton · 6 months ago
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you ever just move your leg a little bit after sitting for a while and when you do something in your hip makes an Insanely loud snapping sound
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muckmagister · 1 year ago
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I’ve had only a bowl of noodles today and I’m not starving. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I should go for a walk to get hungry but it’s dark outside and there might be Bad Guys
you should consume fluids i think 👍 between all the states of matter fluids are my favourite to put in my body, and sometimes when i'm not feeling hungry it's cause i haven't drank enough fluids first
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tardis--dreams · 1 year ago
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I'm like a stock image portraying depression
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suguann · 10 months ago
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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Masterlist
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transbot-brian · 1 year ago
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i need to rip out my bones. fuck science
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slytherinslut0 · 1 month ago
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 18th. mattheo — hate fucking / enemies.
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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.
summary: “at least her favourite form of foreplay isn’t an argument…” “or being a bitch her kink..”
warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon(meh), ex bf/gf trope, toxic behaviour, mutual manipulation, these two are chaotic as fuck, mentions of blood, gagging, degradation, rough sex PIV, hate fucking, spitting, spanking, uhhh i think that covers it. this one is a ride. can you tell this is my fav trope?
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"I'm so fucking sick of you.”
"Get well soon, princess."
"Get fucked, Riddle."
Three sentences, three venomous insults that cut the room in half—heavy enough in their intensity to make you want to tear through dungeon walls, splintering stone and mortar with bare hands if it means sparing yourself another second in this blasted room, with him.
Detention at midnight—on a Friday, no fucking less—is unheard of. But leave it to your dickhead ex to make the impossible a reality. His fault, of course. Like always.
Snape had turned a blind eye for months. It was only a matter of time before something had to give. An hour unsupervised was as good as you'll get.
Sulking defeat, you sink back in your chair, rough wood digging into your spine as you eye Mattheo with a glare that could rival a bullet. He looks like hell, and it's infuriating how even in that state he manages to look so nonchalant, so maddeningly unbothered—like even exhaustion makes a home on him and he's comfortable with it. Bags under his eyes, scar cutting across the bridge of his nose, those dark curls falling messily over his forehead, white dress shirt wrinkled and open at the collar.
You roll your eyes, a gesture that feels like your only act of rebellion left.
And he notices. Of course he does.
"You haven't changed a bit," he spits, and you know it's an insult. You scowl as he swipes the blood off his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "Always a bitch to me over something."
Bitch. The name strikes you, but you won't let him see it, won't let him know that it lands. You've bled too many times at his feet for him to draw blood again tonight.
"Am I not allowed to be pissed off that you dragged us into detention? We should be at the party, Mattheo. We should be anywhere but here." You hear the frustration rising in your voice, like it's boiling up from somewhere deep, somewhere you can't quite reach. It's hard not to let it slip, especially when he looks at you like that. "This is so fucking typical of you. You mess up, and somehow I'm the one who pays for it."
For a moment, there's silence, and it almost feels like a victory until you realize he's only biding his time, waiting to strike back.
"You really want to get back there? To that party?" He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You long for the chair to break from under him. "After what your new man was caught doing with Lovegood?"
You snort before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping out like a reflex. You hadn't expected that. And quite frankly, it's amusing—no, downright hilarious—that he's clearly been keeping tabs on you and "new man", and now here he is, trying to play it off like he doesn't care. Like it's nothing.
"I'll spare you the insults this once," you mutter, fingers loosening the tie around your neck with a tug. "Because, clearly, you're ignorant to the truth, even if you think you know every goddamn thing." You pause, ripping out your earrings. "He's not my man, so I don't give a shit what he does with who. He ended it last week. Good fuck, sure—but other than that..."
You trail off, making a mocking noise with your lips, a derisive puff of air, as if you could blow away the memory of him as easily as dust off an old book. A Ravenclaw. Brilliant in all the wrong ways—sharp mind, yes, but utterly thrill-less, like he saw you as just another page to flip through, a textbook he was annotating.
It is what it is.
A moment passes and then Mattheo grins—slow at first, but spreading across his face like fire, destructive in its consummation. It unsettles you. He looks more intrigued than he's been in months.
"A good fuck, huh?"
"That's what I said," you reply, clipped, your tone offering no room for him to crawl inside.
"And why didn't it work out? Too good for you?" He says, twisting the knife just because he can. "Too clean, maybe?"
Your eyes scan the room, searching for something within reach to throw at him, anything to break this unbearable tension. Insufferable. Every inch of him, insufferable.
You find nothing, so you throw words instead. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
He nods, as if that's the truest thing either of you have said all night. Of course he knows.
You barely suppress a dry laugh at his idiocy. "Like I told you—he ended it. If you're so fucking interested in why it didn't work out, then why don't you go ask him?"
There's a pause—he's chewing the inside of his cheek as he stares at you. You imagine chewing his head off as you stare at him.
"I'm sure you gave that bookworm the ride of his life," he says, voice half-dry, half-sarcastic, as if he's already bored of the conversation. As if he knew all of this information already. "Everyone knew that was temporary. Your first rebound, congrats."
And just like that, your blood is boiling. He knows how to needle you, how to get under your skin with the slightest flick of his stupid fucking tongue. Your eyes trace the cold stone of the dungeon walls, desperately trying to find something—anything—to distract yourself.
But it's no use. Mattheo's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. That's why you left. All the two of you did was fight and fuck, a chaotic spiral that was as thrilling as it was destructive. Now, he's easily your enemy—dragging you into his messes, never letting you get too far without ruining your life somehow.
And yet—
If you said you didn't miss the sex sometimes, that'd be a lie. Or at least a half-truth. The kind that slips out when you've had one too many glasses of firewhiskey, the kind you'd regret in the morning.
"What about you, dickhead?" You cut through the silence, ignoring his obvious attempt to rile you up. "That Hufflepuff you were seeing—why'd I see her all over Theo tonight?"
He answers far too fast. "They're friends."
You snort, disbelieving. "Right."
You rise to your feet, crossing the room to the bookcase as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The books feel safer somehow, less volatile.
"You're bored of her, aren't you?" You don't care to look at him. You can imagine the way his jaw tenses at the question.
The silence is telling. He doesn't answer right away. You know him well enough to understand what that means. Then, finally, he speaks, a half-answer that doesn't really answer the fucking question at all.
"At least her favourite form of foreplay isn't a fucking argument." He stands, slow, pushing his hair back from his forehead with one battered hand. You glance at him, pulse quickening. "Or being a bitch her kink."
"Does she even have kinks?" It slips out, a knife thrown without aiming. "Sounds like you're bored, Matty."
You watch as he blinks, his eyes darken. That nickname—you know you don't have the right to say it anymore, and that's exactly why you do. It's an insult wrapped in familiarity, and it hits its mark by the way his shoulders tense, jaw tight.
He steps toward you, one calculated step, and you feel it—that chaotic pull, the gravity that's always drawn you both in, no matter how far you try to stay away. A smile pulls at your lips, a cruel thing.
"How cute." He tilts his head just enough to inspect you, eyes dragging over you like he's searching for something to confirm what he already suspects. "Looks like you're jealous."
Your hand grips the bookshelf, eyes locked on him over your shoulder. Jealous? There's not a soul on this planet who could make you jealous. She may be the hero of this story, the girl that gets the guy, might even be everything you're not—
"Looks like you're learning the hard way," you're inspecting him now, too. Every piece of him you once touched. "When it comes too easy it's never gonna' hit as hard, babe."
Another pause from him—something dancing in his eyes. Anger? Maybe. Or something more, something twisted that you don't care to name. You've already lit the match, and now you're just watching him burn.
"You're so clever, huh? So full of advice," he sneers, ripping off his tie and chucking it on a desk. "Go on then, tell me more about how I feel, professor. Since you know everything about me."
You can't help the smirk that curls on your lips. Oh, he's pissed. And that means you're winning.
"What? You don't like hearing the truth? Too much for your delicate ego?" You take a step toward him, savouring every second of this. He hurt you, over and over, the scars from those days still fresh, still bleeding beneath your skin. This has been a long time coming. "You think I care about your new girl, Matty? The one you let your boys fawn over in the common room?...she kissed Theo tonight." You pause, letting that linger. "You think you're doing something, but I see right through you. You don't give a fuck about her. If you did, no one would dare touch her like that. So don't sit here, accusing me of jealousy, like I'm the one hung up on you. You're projecting. And it's pathetic."
He doesn't waste a goddamn beat—his laugh is bitter, sickeningly so—and he advances again, his shadow moving behind him, the space between you now barely there.
"That's amazing, truly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a goddamn oracle. All-knowing, all-seeing." His voice is infuriating. The look on his face more-so. "What's your verdict then, my lord? You think this is all an act? That everything I'm doing is just to spite you?"
Your heart races, breath catching in your throat as he steps closer. This is a dance you both know too well, the kind where neither of you win.
"I know how you operate." Your chest heaves, anger rising with every breath. "It's all a game to you, Matt. A sick, twisted game to keep yourself entertained."
"That's rich, coming from someone who played it just as well." He takes another step forward. You could reach out and touch him now he's that close. His grin grows. "Too bad your Ravenclaw figured it out before you could sink your teeth in too deep. Next time you see him, make sure to tell him I said you're welcome."
Your brows pinch—the blood in your veins screeching to a halt, backing up like New York traffic at a standstill. You feel it, hot and furious, rushing toward a place it can't go, clogged behind the wall of rage building up inside you—
"You're welcome?" You spit, a sharp snarl caught between clenched teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He's watching you, his eyes darting over your shoulder, fingers brushing over his lips like he's trying to dull that familiar smirk, that cruel little game he's always played.
Your stomach sinks, drops to your feet.
"Mattheo—" you snap, cutting him off just as he opens his mouth, before he can throw another snide word. "Spare me the cryptic bullshit for once in your life—“
His eyebrows lift at that, but there's a nod, a hint of something deeper in it. You taste the smugness in the air between you, can almost feel it slithering through his silence.
"Looks like you don't know everything after all. Isn't that ironic?" He straightens up, letting the moment breathe before his face hardens into something almost serious. "Your rebound came to me in the courtyard about two weeks ago. Had some questions about you."
"What?" Your nerves are vibrating, every cell in your body on edge. Your blood is so clogged, you swear you're seeing red. "What questions?"
"The usual sort of normal stuff. Your birthday. Your favorite colour. Childhood traumas. Our downfall. You know."
The casualty in the way he says it makes you sick, bile rising in your throat, a bitter burn at the back of your mouth. It's all starting to come together now. This stupid motherfucker—
"You're lying." The words feel weak, frail. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't. "You're fucking lying."
"Am I?" His fingers brush your cheek, but your skin's gone numb, your blood too frozen to feel anything but the cold burn of your fury. "Or, is the truth just…too much for your delicate ego to handle?"
Oh, fuck off—
Your wand is in your hand before you even realize you've grabbed it, instinct, pure reflex. There's barely a second of rational thought before you're casting, the spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying back into the chair he once sat in. His eyes flash, anger igniting there, and he scrambles for his wand—but you're faster.
"Expelliarmus."
One word and you're across the room before you even know you've moved, chest tight as you slam the tip of your wand against his throat. There's a cut on his lip, blood trickling down his chin for a second time tonight, but that stupid fucking smirk is still there, showcasing rubies for teeth and carved into his face like it belongs.
"Tell me what you did." Your voice cracks, but not from fear—it's fury, burgling through you, burning hot enough to make your whole body shake. You half want to cut him open just to bury your rage inside him, let him feel it. "If what you're saying is true, he ended things just days later. Tell me what the fuck you said to him."
Mattheo’s leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender, eyes glinting with the same smug amusement that's always haunted him. He's daring you, taunting you. He knows you never cared about that guy, not really.
You both know it. He was boring, easy.
This—this is something else.
His tongue swipes at the blood on his lip. "He didn't tell you—"
"Don't." Your wand digs deeper into his skin, cutting off whatever he was about to say. The pressure makes his breath hitch, but not enough. Not nearly enough. "I said tell me."
"Merlin—okay—I told him nothing, nothing really," his voice makes your grip tighten on your wand. He stares at you for a long, hard minute before he adds; "except that he should show me some fucking gratitude."
Your jaw slips, confusion rushing in like a flood. But before you can even question him—
"I told him he should be thanking me." Another pause. "When he's fucking you."
He laps at the blood seeping from the cut on his lip for the second time in only a minute and you barely notice the movement—the words hit you like a brick, but it's deeper than that, something visceral that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones. It's sharp, raw, cutting through the wall of rage so fast it leaves you breathless. You don't know how to explain it, this feeling that twists through you, something far too complicated to be named.
And then, you become aware of everything at once.
His legs, spread wide on either side of yours, the space between you so small, your chest just close enough to his face that his breath feels like it's fogging your skin. You're towering over him, wand pressed hard into his throat, your heart hammering in your chest like you're ready to ruin him—but his eyes, the way he looks up at you, says he'd let you.
"I may have even added that although you're with him, you'll always think of me. Both you and him know it’s true.“ That stupid smirk is gone, replaced with something you've never quite seen before. He pauses, before he continues. "You miss it. Us." Another pause. There’s something victorious in his tone, something that's almost breaking you. "And no matter how many times you try to forget, you never do, do you?"
Salazar save you—you should hex him. You should fucking hex him. Every nerve in your body is screaming for it, begging for it, but you can't. You can't fucking move. Your wand is still pressed to his skin, but it feels like you're the one pinned down.
"Shut up," you finally manage, but your voice is meek, thin, nothing like the fury you want to feel. "You...you're being—"
"I'll shut up," his hand finds your wrist, pressing your wand tip against his neck with more force—enough to make himself wince. "If you make me."
You blink, stunned, and you can feel your anger slipping, slipping faster than you can catch it. You don't know what's happening to you—it’s just him—his sick twisted insanity that disarms you. Time and time again. An endless fucking cycle.
"I could ruin you," you whisper, but it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than him. You press the wand deeper, just enough to draw a grunt from him, but the look on his face—he's not afraid. No, he's enjoying it. "I have more reasons than most to leave you here bloodied for Snape to find in the morning."
You say the words but the conviction is gone, swept away in the flood of heat between you—the dizzying proximity, the way his lips curl, almost smiling but not quite—
"What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, and there's something fragile in his voice now. "That you might actually want this?"
"I don't want this." You force the words out immediately, hoping they will make it real. Hoping they'll stop this spiral. "I regret ever wanting this."
He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes falling to trace your lips—
"I know you hate me, the feelings mutual...but I know. I know I'll always be your favourite regret," those chocolate curls shift, his head tilts closer, too close. Not close enough. "You're still my weapon of choosing."
Merlin. Merlin bloody forgive you—
"…to hurt yourself with?” It's half a question, but you already know the answer.
He nods, and that does it.
Your lips are on his, fast and hard and bruising—and the reaction is immediate, visceral. All that backed-up blood—all that rage frozen in your veins rushes forward in a single, scorching wave. It crashes low, between your thighs, a heat so sharp it aches. The shame comes with it. So does the disgust. A sick knot of self-hatred pulsing through you as you taste his blood on your tongue while his hands are under your skirt, grabbing you like he owns you, pulling you into him. It's only a moment before your wand clatters to the ground, and your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking hard, hard enough to hurt.
You want it to hurt. God, you want it to hurt.
He growls at the sting on his scalp—and then, everything flips.
His fingers tug at something, and you realize it's his own wand, the one you tucked into the back of your skirt—and before you can even think, he's got it, casting a spell that sends you flying back onto the desk behind you. You groan—the world spins, but you don't even have a second to gather yourself before he's advancing toward you, casting another spell on his tie.
Within seconds it's slithering across your lips and tying itself around your head, gagging you.
He steps between your legs, parts them with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times before—rough hands gliding up your thighs, eyes wild. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, through your slit, and you try to hold on to any shred of control, but it's gone. You can feel it. The way you forget everything except the way he leans down, breath hot in your ear.
"Look how fucking wet you are," he spits through a sneering grin. "You're goddamn shameless, aren't you?"
You roll your eyes, but your thoughts scatter the moment his fingers shove inside you, curling hard—so hard you gasp into the tie, your back arching violently off the desk.
"He ever get you this wet?" His voice is like gravel, each word grinding into your bones. "Nod your head if he did."
Your body reacts before your mind does, arching against him, but you don't move your head. As much as it hurts your pride to give him that win. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull—hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to hurt.
His hand comes down hard on your thigh in response, a sharp smack that stings, a warning. You squeal, and his fingers start pumping faster, deeper.
He huffs. "That's what I thought."
His fingers make quick work of you, relentless, and his thumb presses to your clit, rolling circles in a rhythm that has your blood on fire, shame licking at the edges of your vision, but it only makes you burn hotter. This is all wrong. Everything about this is wrong, something you'll regret with every fiber of your being tomorrow, but right now, it's an ache you need.
It's the wound you keep reopening, the pain you crave because it's the only thing that ever feels real.
"Fuck, you're close, aren't you?" He sounds almost shocked, like he can't believe how easily your body betrays you, but you feel it too, the disbelief crashing through you as fast as the pleasure does. Too fast. Far too fast. "Did he ever make you cum? Huh? When's the last time you fucking came?"
You can't answer, just groan, yanking at his hair again. His response is immediate, another stinging slap to your inner thigh, sharp enough to make fluid prick your eyes. Your orgasm is right there, teetering on the edge, ready to tip over—but then he slows his pace, dragging it out, torturing you.
You whine. A pitiful, desperate sound you hate yourself for.
"Look at me." His voice cuts through the haze, and begrudgingly, you do. "He didn't make you cum, did he?"
Your face burns, not from his breath or his fingers or even the astronomical amount of shame you feel—but from the truth of it. You shake your head.
"How long?" His voice shatters the air between you. "A week?"
You shake your head again, biting into the fabric of his tie as his fingers curl deeper inside you.
"Two weeks?"
Another shake. He curses under his breath.
"You poor little thing." His words are venom, but the second they spill from his lips, he pumps his fingers into you again, massaging at your walls, and your vision goes white. "Can't even cum without me."
You would've slapped him if you could, would've torn him apart, but the orgasm hits you like a freight train, ripping through you with violent force. You clench around his digits, thighs trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure, convulsing, moaning into the tie as he watches you like he's won.
"So fucking easy." He withdraws his fingers, and immediately, his hands go to his belt. "We'll make up for lost time."
Everything about this feels like a rerun. The same scene playing out on loop, again and again—a cycle of self-destruction you know too well, like running headfirst into a burning building, certain you can handle the smoke only to choke on it.
He's taking off his belt, ready to fuck you stupid, and by morning you'll be back to the same familiar hatred, tearing each other apart in new, inventive ways. Your hands move sluggishly to rip the tie from your mouth, but you're slow, too slow, still dizzy from the release that blindsided you, one that you haven't felt in so long—the fabric barely grazes your fingers before Mattheo catches your wrists, yanking them back, dragging you to your feet in one rough motion.
The spin disorients you—arms pinned behind your back, his cock sliding between your thighs.
"You've done enough talking today," he hisses at your ear as he drags along your slit. "You want this, don't you?"
Your mind screams for you to shake your head, to end this here and now. You know he'd stop—he's an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole. You know it. You almost do it, almost say the word that would shatter this madness. But then he drags his tip against your clit and you moan before you can stop yourself.
Your head nods with a wanton moan, and it's so full of shame your eyes sting with tears.
"Yeah, I know, baby." He's taunting you, every syllable smug, condescending. "This pussy missed me so much, huh?" His hand tightens on your wrists until your skin burns, the other hand finding its way around your thigh, pulling you closer to him. "Fuckin' lost without me. S'all it's good for, isn't it? Taking my cock."
You groan, shaking your head in defiance, but even that feels like a lie. You hate him. You want him. You hate yourself for wanting him.
"No?" His fingers inch toward your clit, ghosting over it—you squeal, hips jerking for more. "Maybe we should call this off then?"
You blink once and his fingers are gone—wrenching a whine out of you, pathetic as you push your ass back against him, shame burning through you as you shake your head. Fuck him. Curse him. But you need him inside you, need him to fill the aching void that gnaws at you.
"That's my slut," he growls, and before you can process the words, he's inside you—one long, brutal thrust that spears you open, the stretch burning deep. The sting mixes with shock of his fingers returning to your clit, rubbing circles that make your knees buckle. "You know you're the only girl I've fucked raw? This pussy will always be mine."
He's fucking insane. Completely insane. And the worst part is, you're just as insane for wanting him. For needing him. You can't fight it. You don't even want to. Not now. Not when his voice drips like poison and he's tearing you apart in the only way you understand.
"Mmmf—" you groan into the tie and he's matching you, his teeth grazing your shoulder, marking you in ways that will last for days.
"I hope it hurts," he grumbles against your skin, his breath ragged. He's lying, you can feel it in the way his fingers are moving, coaxing you to cum, even as he pretends to wish you pain. "I hope it fucking stings."
Your hands ball into fists, trapped in his grip, and you imagine clawing at his back until you draw blood, sinking your nails in until he feels every ounce of your anger.
"I want you to feel it—fuck—I want you to remember this," he pants, his voice barely more than a growl as your climax crashes toward you, unstoppable now. "Remember how weak I make you. How much of a slut you are for me."
Another harsh thrust and then, you're there—falling into the void—pleasure is so strong it bleeds out of you, forcing your cunt to clamp tight around him, legs trembling, barely able to support you through it. Mattheo’s curses slip through clenched teeth, but this only fuels him—his rhythm picks up, brutal, hips slamming against your ass with a pace that borders on unhinged.
"Fuck. Oh, fuck." The words are barely audible, grunted against the shell of your ear. You're whining, still twitching with aftershocks, but he doesn't care. His hands are on your hips now, fingers digging deep as he thrusts you forward, slamming you over the desk. The wood bites into your palms as you try to brace yourself, but his anger is palpable, drilling into you— "you wanna bitch at me now?"
The moan you release is automatic, instinctual. You can't stop it. Can't control it. His fingers curl around your throat, shifting the tie down to shove two into your mouth.
"Hhhhh—" you're trying to form words around his fingers, but it's impossible. The garbled sound is pathetic, but he knows exactly what you're trying to say.
"You hate me. I know." It’s smug, punctuated by a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it making you yelp. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping the spit across your cheek before he grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn, to meet his eyes. "Open your mouth."
There's no time to process the demand. His eyes are molten, crazed, filled with something raw and uncontainable. His next thrust is punishing, slamming into your cervix, making you sob—your mouth parting just enough—
He leans in close, and then he spits into your mouth.
"Swallow it." His fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing the order into your bones. "Be a good girl for once."
You choke out a laugh, even as you're panting, even as he's splitting you stupid.
"Never." The word barely leaves your lips before you’re spitting back at him—your entwined saliva landing across his chin and lips.
For a second, you expect the worst—you brace yourself for the retaliation—the slap, the insult, the way he'll tighten his grip and take back control. But to your surprise, instead of anger, there's a grin—wide and feral, big and crazed enough to reach his eyes.
You smile back. His cock twitches inside you.
"Fuck me," he mutters, then crashes his mouth to yours.
You taste the salt and bitterness of mingled spit, a mess of his and yours, and it pulls a moan from somewhere deep inside you. He devours it, greedy, his hips growing erratic, sloppy as his high nears.
His hand drops to your clit, fingers pressing with a precision that obliterates every last shred of sanity—and it takes only moments before the pressure builds again, fast and furious. Your third orgasm rips you apart, your body clenching tight, muscles seizing as you're lost in it. You're not sure where you end and he begins—your breath congealing with his, your moans swallowed in the space between you.
His release follows right after, crashing over him as he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a groan that reverberates through your bones. You hate the way it feels. You hate the way he fills you. But you also can't deny the twisted satisfaction of it—the way you sought this punishment, needed it. The shame consumes you, but it's comforting in its familiarity.
He pulls out, and the silence between you is easy, broken only by your ragged breathing. The room feels impossibly small now, your body still thrumming with the aftermath, but the moment is over. You both start to move—piecing yourselves back together, pulling clothes into place, avoiding the weight of what just happened.
You don't understand how it came to this, how it always does, but you're not surprised. Not anymore.
After a long, silent moment, he looks at you. “I don’t regret what I did.”
You know he doesn’t.
“I know.”
He blinks. “I won’t apologize for it.”
You know he won’t.
“I know.”
He nods, now, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fix your skirt. You note the hair sticking to his forehead, how he’s still catching his breath even though he’s pretending he isn’t.
“You aren’t mad.” An observation.
“I’m not.” You reply. You know you should be, but the relief you felt when that Ravenclaw ended things tells you everything you need to know. “Just, never do it again.”
He nods again. “Sure.”
You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean that—but, at least now, as you glance over at him, there's a small comfort in knowing you no longer want to kill him.
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tinythebunni · 20 days ago
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rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.
rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.
he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.
you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.
people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.
he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.
you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.
you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.
you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.
who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.
after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.
you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.
he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.
“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.
you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.
he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.
“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“
you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.
“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.
“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”
rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.
he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.
“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”
you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.
he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.
“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”
“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.
he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?
he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.
rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.
“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”
the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.
“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.
“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!
“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.
“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”
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mintmatcha · 11 days ago
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Continuation.
Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.
And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.
He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-
He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.
Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.
Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.
"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.
You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.
"I'm retired."
Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.
"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."
"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."
Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.
"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"
You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.
"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."
Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-
"You twitch like one too."
"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.
"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.
"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.
"Soda water with lime."
"No alcohol?"
"I like to keep my wits about me."
The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.
"You scared the fuck outta him."
"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."
Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."
"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"
He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."
"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."
That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-
"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.
"I do.'
"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."
"It's better if you don't know."
Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-
A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.
"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."
"You kill people?" he whispers back.
"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."
It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.
If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.
"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."
"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."
"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"
You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."
There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-
So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.
"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.
Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.
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chososdiscordkitten · 9 months ago
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Just A Taste.
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Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•
Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play
Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33
(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music
MDNI
Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.
Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you. 
“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.
And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.” 
Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.
But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.
As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.
Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards. 
“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.
This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.  
Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple. 
So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could. 
At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink. 
He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.
And you always said no. 
But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears. 
So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.
You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in. 
He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't. 
The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky. 
You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.
His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.  
True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.
His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes. 
With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed. 
Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side. 
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,”  he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso. 
“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice. 
Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge. 
It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk. 
But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags. 
Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear. 
You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear. 
You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.” 
Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words. 
His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed. 
You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.
Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words. 
And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.
Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that. 
Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation. 
With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.
You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it. 
Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth. 
His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.
Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out. 
The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world. 
It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.
No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.
Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.
Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have. 
No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.
But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite. 
That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.
Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine. 
With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.
Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat. 
Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple. 
Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice. 
Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.
Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes. 
You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning. 
That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some. 
That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats. 
You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.
His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.
Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.  
And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.
You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin. 
You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.
Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge. 
Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.
You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way. 
Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.
You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction. 
And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment. 
For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.
You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.
And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast. 
You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple. 
Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead. 
The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.
It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.
Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows. 
It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable. 
Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.
It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip. 
His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.
Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again. 
The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child. 
Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now. 
He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple. 
Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.
Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either. 
Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself. 
And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return. Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed. 
Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten. 
Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles. 
You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake. 
Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click. 
But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way. 
Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense. 
Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach. 
The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers. 
Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.
Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again. 
Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple. 
Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine. 
As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand. 
And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes. 
When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.
He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time. 
“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump. 
“Call me and I'll find you.” 
You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath. 
Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom. 
“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question. 
Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.
“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks. 
You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.
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rainrot4me · 4 months ago
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Three’s A Crowd
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Summary: Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.
Characters: Ben Drowned x Female Reader x Jeff the Killer
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Using a controller as a vibrator, threesome, fingering, toxic, Ben pressures you lowkey, embarrassment, power struggle, vaginal, creampie, cum mixing, competition, cunnilingus, Jeff and Ben flirt, dub-con, pining, suppressed emotions, jealousy, jealousy sex, angry sex, insults, overstimulation
Words: 5.3k
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In your opinion, video games sucked.
Correction: The games themselves didn’t suck. The way they made the residents of the mansion act, sucked. 
It was so unruly. Screaming, throwing the controllers, weapons being whipped out at a poorly timed insult, they had no restraint. Everyone was pretty bad, yourself included, but Jeff and Ben were worst of all. The two idiots didn’t have respect for a single thing in their lives, and that principle carried over now as you were hunched between them on the shabby couch in the living room. 
It was well into the night, and most of the creeps were either asleep or out on a mission for Slender, so the boys ruled they could be as reckless as they wanted without consequence. Jeff had hauled you along too, ripping you from your comfortable bed to act as a witness to whoever won the match of Mario Kart. However, six rounds later, the two of them were leaning forward heavily and cursing at every bad move. Elbows perched on knees as the bright glow from the TV cast a haze over the room, your phone distracting you as they shoved and bumped into your curled-up body. “One more shell and I’m punching you.” Ben grit, Jeff laughed.
Ben was playing as Link, obviously, but Jeff was heavily set on playing as Rosalina because she’s “emo and fuckin’ hot”. You thought it was crude, but as the little princess chucked another blue turtle shell as Link, Jeff secured his win, tying the boys up. Three each, no clear winner and the exhaustion was starting to set in as you gazed at the bright TV. “Aw, sucks. Guess we’ll never know.” You chime, tugging yourself off of the couch and beginning to make your way up to your room and away from the already obnoxious arguing that followed. A calloused hand was quick to drag you back, hauling your ass back into the cushion you had been in for hours. 
“Nope. All or nothin’.” Jeff smiled, settling back into the armrest of the couch as Ben loaded another round, the loud whistles and bells chiming obnoxiously as they gripped their controllers. You groaned, shrugging back into the crook of the cushions as the boys pressed close to you, occasionally slapping at each other’s thighs and elbowing you a little too hard as they sped through obstacles. It was irritating, you becoming agitated every time one of their curses rang a little too loud in your ear. Ben was winning, sending Jeff into an utter panic and standing up, knocking you on the side of the head as he threw his elbows out in an attempt to steer clear of the giant tar pit in front of him. That did it for you.
“Okay. Fuck this.” You stood up, shoving Jeff to the side as you grabbed the remote to the TV and powered it off, their yells following as the bright light faded. “What the fuck?!” Ben snapped, throwing his hands in the air and standing next to Jeff now, who looked equally as shocked. 
“You’ve done nothing but yell in my ear all night! Either find some other way to settle your score, or just get over yourselves!” You grit, slamming the remote back down and aiming to walk towards the stairs, shoving your phone into your pocket as you stomp off. Ben laughed, your phone becoming suddenly very hot in your pocket and making you hiss, grabbing it and throwing it down onto the floor. Jeff was cackling, Ben smiling as you scowled at him, his dark eyes bright against the re-appearing glow of the TV as it suddenly switched back on. “Fucker.” You growled. They both just chuckled, grabbing their controllers again and restarting the game where it left off. “Now, either come sit down, or your phone explodes next.” The elf chitted, patting the spot on the sofa next to him teasingly.
Swearing, you sat back down, shoving your phone onto the coffee table in front of you and begrudgingly refocusing on the bright game, Jeff now taking the lead. The race was quick, Ben coming out on top in the end and sending the pale killer to call for another round, to which you responded with a groan. “Sit tight, gonna grab a drink.” The dark-headed man huffed, tossing the controller onto your lap and heading off into the kitchen, the little device buzzing and lighting up every time Ben clicked on his own. It was a weird sensation, the vibrations tickling your skin as you watched the screen, Ben focused on readying a match again. “This thing vibrates?” You laughed, pushing around the joysticks and smiling when the device buzzed deep as the car engines on the screen revved. Ben smiled, teasingly nudging your arm as he sat back into the cushion, resting his on controller on his leg. “Yeah, not as good as yours though.” He teasingly glared.
You cringed, Ben’s perverted little mouth taking over as he snickered, your face growing hot. “Not funny.” You hissed, shoving the controller off of your lap and onto Jeff’s empty seat, the little buzzing seeming a lot less cute now. The room was awkward now, at least on your end, but Ben just kept laughing, even as Jeff reemerged from the kitchen and plopped back down onto the sofa, giving you both a questioning look before readjusting as you shook your head. 
The boys started up again, you now keenly aware of just how much they were touching you. Thighs pressed side by side, shoulders nudging, Ben’s hands moving the controller down just a little too close to your scrunched-up legs as he raced; his comment had made you very agitated, your mind swirling the comment every time you heard the deep vibration of the little devices. Ben noticed, or at least, pretended like he wasn’t planning it all along. The elf had used his comment wisely, pushing you just the right amount into uncomfortable just to get your blood flowing, but not pushing you away. Truth was, he knew it was personal, knew all too well from the small hum of your vibrator through his walls, your little huffs and whines pushing through the wood and right into his pointed ears. He liked those nights, the nights where he could secretly send his influence and make the vibrator speed up suddenly, the hum becoming louder as your little voice followed, forcing you into an orgasm that he secretly caused. It was his favorite thing, pushing you, unknowingly under his whim. But now, he had the chance to actually pursue it, pursue you. 
Jeff was your friend, he was the whole reason you were down here. He had nonchalantly pleaded with you to be their little witness and sit in on the game, and Ben knew if he wanted to get to you, you’d need Jeff there to accompany the ride. You two weren’t lovers, but Ben accepted the fact that if he wanted to make his fantasies a reality, he was going to have to share. If only for tonight. This rang true even as he subtly pressed his thigh closer against yours, but you instinctually slid your legs closer to Jeff, your weight slowly shifting onto his shoulder as he shifted with you. Ben side-eyed hard, quietly nagging himself as he lost track of what he was doing and slipped off the map. Jeff howled, playfully slapping your leg and teasing the elf about paying attention. But he was done with this game, his focus had left that screen and was now locked onto you, along with his subtle jealousy that struck as you nestled against Jeff even further.
“You get any closer to him you’ll be sitting on his dick.” Ben mocked, flicking the game off with a little twitch of his finger and letting the bright TV glow illuminate your already flushed face. You gawked at him, brows furrowed as your face grew hot, looking at Jeff as he just laughed. “What the fuck, man?” The killer half laughed half cringed, glancing at you but tossing the controller onto the coffee table to avoid the awkwardness of being pressed against you now. You read it, shifting off of him as Ben moved to face you, crossing his arms with a sour look. “No, go ahead [Y/N], show Jeff how bad you want it. Y’know, since apparently I’m not funny anymore.” He grilled, nudging you closer to Jeff until you literally had to push your hands against his chest to stop the elf from climbing on top of you. Jeff didn’t think it was funny anymore either, shoving Ben’s shoulder and telling him to chill out as he pressed further, grabbing the controller off of the couch and shoving your back down against the killer’s legs awkwardly. “I’ll just do it myself then.” 
Ben was shoving himself between your legs now, pressing your thighs open and forcing his hands between as Jeff tried to adjust, trying to pull you up but being forced behind you as the elf pushed down. “Ben. What the hell are you doing?” He was blushing, despite his aggressive gaze now the killer was stunned, and Ben could see it. His hands pushed deeper, a twitch of his eyebrow all it took to send the little device in his hand roaring, a deep rumbling sounding as he pushed it closer to your clothed cunt. You panicked, reaching down to stop Ben but the controller was already whirring against your shorts, sending your back arching off of Jeff’s legs and the blonde smiling wickedly. “May not be fun, but you sure do seem to enjoy yourself a lot because of me.” 
“Wha-“ You gasped, clawing back into Jeff’s jeans as he watched, unable to help as his face grew hot, eyes flickering across the scene. You tried to sit up, but Jeff’s hands were on you now, wrapping under your arms and hauling you between his legs, letting Ben work the controller’s handle against your clothed clit as his hands rubbed your body. This was embarrassing, you squirming and writhing against the feeling of the device harshly vibrating against you, the power a direct reflection of Ben’s emotions. It was hard and rough, your gasps and writhing groans making Ben all the more excited as he looked up at Jeff, his expression conflicted between discomforted and getting terribly turned on. “Go on, Jeffrey. Get on with it or leave, either way, I’m making her cum.” You hissed, jerking as the controller handle nudged hard onto your clit, reaching to grab Jeff’s arms that were wrapped around you, clawing into them for some relief.
The killer was conflicted, breathing heavily above you as he watched you come apart, hips jerking with every shove Ben gave of the device. “She said we should break our tie some other way. I say we just found the perfect solution.” The elf smirked. Jeff didn’t particularly know what he was doing, but Ben’s glare and your desperate eyes burning into the killer clicked something, all of his embarrassment washing out as he slid his hands up your shirt, a satisfied chuckle ringing from the blond. “Atta boy.” You were shifting, trying to pry Jeff's hands off as he tugged up your shirt over your bra, body tense as you felt Ben’s fingers slip under your shorts, too. “Guys- Wait-” But they weren't listening, didn’t care to anyway as they hauled your clothes off of your body, sharing hungry looks between the other as your bare skin felt hot and sticky against their rough hands. It was addicting.
Jeff had never particularly thought of you in that way, always seeing you as some stability that he could rely on, but never something he found he desired. You were pretty, beautiful even, but there was always this tension he couldn’t get past. He realized it now though, as he tugged your bra off of your tits and slid the fabric over your head, he knew that tension was just his buried frustration about you. He was never good with emotions anyway, especially his own. “Fuck…” He groaned as he palmed your flesh, your hard nipples satisfying to roll between the pads of his fingers. Goosebumps rose against your skin as your panties were pulled off of your ankles, and tossed aside as Ben reached for the controller again, the familiar buzzing desperately guiding you to shut your legs, but the elf’s hands were already prying them open. They were both chuckling, their hands palmed down hard all over your skin as Ben pressed the handle back to your clit, the bare contact sending your back shooting off of Jeff’s lap with a groan. The vibration was horrible now, squelching and rubbing shakily as your cunt ached, arousal building and clawing its way through. Ben’s eyes were locked on you, gauging your every reaction and slightly contorting the intensity of the device to tug cute little whines from your lips, his bulge growing annoying fast against you.
Jeff was too, his jeans becoming tight against your back as he pulled your nipples up, massaging your tits until you were clawing at his arms, whining for him to be easier. He wouldn’t, it just wasn’t his style, wasn’t what he craved. “Feel good, princess?” Ben hissed, nudging his hips under your thighs and letting his bulge rut against your bare ass, his sweatpants rough against your bare skin. Jeff groaned, rolling his eyes and he pulled you up, positioning under you and letting your back rest against his chest, his hips jerking his bulge against the small of your back. “Princess? Really?” He scoffed, reaching his hand to tug your chin to the side, giving him access to your neck and pecking at the hot skin. Ben glared, the aggression between the two shows in their actions as the controller upped its intensity, handle buzzing hard against your swollen clit, sending you sobbing. Jeff answered with a tight tug of your jaw, biting into the side of your neck just enough to make you panic. They were competing, trying to see who could better stake their claim. You cursed yourself mentally for letting yourself be their solution.
“Well, princess? Answer me, c’mon.” Ben smiled, ignoring the pale killer and letting his hands splay on your waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he worked the controller in small motions, contorting your clit desperately. You felt like you couldn’t get a stable breath, let alone speak, but the boys listened expectantly, Jeff’s breathing hot against the crook of your neck as he licked against the welts he had created. “I think- Ah- I think I’m close-” You craned, moaning as Ben slid his opposite hand down, running his fingers through the slick between your folds, spreading your arousal against your inner thighs. You groaned as he nudged his fingers into your cunt, spreading the digits against your clenching entrance and pushing his knuckles deeper. You craned, spreading your thighs at the relief of his fingers pushing against your walls, giving good relief to the vibration of the controller still heavy on your throbbing clit. You moaned heartily, jaw hanging open as you threw your head back against Jeff’s shoulder, his fingers quick to press from your jaw and find their way into your lips, pinching at your tongue. 
Closing your eyes, you sucked on the digits, letting Ben work his fingers deep into your cunt and tug your arousal further, Jeff gasping as you slid your tongue desperately. They were both watching, lost in the way your face looked flushed and sweaty, your hair clinging to your face and tears pricking against your eyelids. They were groaning, rutting their clothed cocks against your body until your skin felt raw, arching into the way the controller pulsed against you now, jutting your hips. Popping Jeff’s fingers out of your mouth, you cried out, cunt clenching and throbbing as Ben twisted his knuckles up into the gumminess of your walls. “Oh God- ‘Mm cummin- Ben-” You babbled, the boys adjusting quickly under you and prodding and pulling however they could, aiming to see who could nudge you over that last edge. Jeff’s teeth locked against the side of your jaw, his grunts loud in your ear as he twisted your nipples, hauling your orgasm to come crashing into you. “There you go babygirl, cum on his fingers,” Jeff grunted, licking your cheek as the deep red spot grew against your skin, your hands clasping against his arms as he hugged them around you. You were rolling your hips, chasing Ben’s fingers as he slowly pumped them out of you, gathering your slick and spreading it across your sensitive folds, eyes heavy on you. The controller’s rumbling died out, the handle glistening with your arousal and tossed to the side, the elf’s hands hooking around your waist and hauling you closer on his hips. “Good job, princess…” 
Ben leaned forward, steadying his weight on top of you as he pressed a kiss against your swollen lips, his tongue pushing itself into your mouth. You whined, sucking on his tongue and panting against his skin as you kissed him sloppily, slobber spreading across your skin. Jeff grumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your chest and nudging his head into the crook of your neck, kissing against your ear and licking stripes against your shoulder. Even as they were pleasing you, their focus was on each other, their hands pushing against the other’s shoulder or nudging their knees out of the way; it was possessive and mean, you trapped right in the middle. Jeff popped off your neck, shoving Ben’s face off of yours as the blond’s hand wrapped in the killer’s messy hair and tugged him away from you, their growls echoing above you as they glared. You were still dazed, cunt still throbbing from your orgasm as Jeff hauled you up, pushing his back against the couch and setting you onto his lap, right on top of his bulge. “My turn.” He grit, a low rumble in his chest as he forcefully knots your hips down onto the swell in his jeans, Ben fussing in his ear but moving in front of you all the same. 
Even through their arguing they worked together, Ben helping to tug your hips up as Jeff reached around to unclasp his belt, letting his cock fling out of his jeans and rest against your soppy cunt. You hissed, the pale killer shifting his hips to let his length spread between your folds, your previous orgasm spreading across his cock. “I’ll fuck ya like you deserve, babygirl. Not with some fuckin’ Nintendo controller.” Ben glared, kneeling between Jeff's legs and pressing close to your cunt, fingers nudging against your tired clit, hauling your body back to life. Jeff positioned, nudging his cock head against your entrance, but your hands flung down, pushing both of them away. “If you two can’t act right, you’re not gonna be doing anything. Jesus, you can’t even fuck without arguing.” You spoke between pants, glaring at the two of them as they sat stunned, looking at the other. “Fine.” Jeff grit, rolling his eyes as he hooked his hands under your knees again, hauling them back and up to spread your cunt wide. You hissed, leaning back against him as Ben repositioned, swiping your hands away and nudging his thumb back onto your clit. 
Jeff rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent as he gripped his cock, nudging the head back against your entrance, flicking against your wetness. You rolled your hips, trying to get him to press in but Ben’s fingers tugged your clit up, making your hips follow with a whine. Jeff grumbled, tugging your legs back further and eventually nudging his hips up to connect with your entrance, slowly pushing in as you stretched around him. “Oh- Oh, my-” You mewled, throwing your head back to rest against the killer’s shoulder, reaching forward to grip Ben’s shoulders for stability as he pressed in. The elf gleamed, letting his hands wrap around your thighs as he pressed forward, pressing his tongue against your clit. You whined, shock writhing as Jeff shifted his hips up, letting the head of his cock nudge deep inside of you and stretch your walls thin, his grunts strained against your shoulder. Ben lapped at your folds, sucking your clit generously as Jeff bottomed out, letting your cunt rest on his balls as he pulsed inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the fullness. “Get your fuckin’ tongue off my dick, elf.” The killer grit, cringing at the feeling of Ben’s warm tongue lapping at the base of his dick as he focused on soaking in the taste of your swollen clit. He chuckled, popping off of the swollen nub and replacing it with his thumb, rubbing small circles and looking into the other’s wide eyes. “Be nice, remember?” He teased, pressing his face back in and sucking on your clit, careless to Jeff’s curses every time his tongue passed over the salty taste of the killer’s cock nestled inside of you. 
Grunting, Jeff got over it, hauling your legs higher and pulling them further apart, sighing at the stretch of your walls around him as you throbbed. He twisted his hips up, pressing his feet into the hardwood floor and pushing his cock up into your cunt, thrusting slowly as Ben worked your clit. “Shit…” He sighed, rolling his hips back down before pulsing back up. You moaned deep, hands messing up into Ben’s hair and tugging him closer as he swiped his tongue through your folds, practically trying to push the muscle into your entrance as well. Jeff kissed your shoulder, whispering unheard words as the sound of squelching and slapping filled the room, your cunt soaked and crying with pleasure every time the cock inside you pushed against your walls. “Tastes so good, ohmygods-” Ben clenched, grunting as you tugged his face back against your cunt the moment he let off, pushing his tongue back against your folds. He smiled against you, pushing his tongue up into the leftover space of your soaked cunt along with Jeff’s cock, lapping up every ounce of arousal that spilt onto his chin, fingers pulling your wet lips apart. The killer whined a ragged noise as the pressure of your cunt grew, strangling his length as the tongue felt so nice against the underside of his cock. He dug his nails into the underside of your knees, turning his face to catch your lips with his own as you moaned, gasping into his mouth. The noises you made were so pretty, muffled so nicely against his tongue as he wrapped it with yours. 
It was all so messy. Spit running down Ben’s chin, Jeff panting and moaning into your mouth the harder he thrust, your whines sobbed between kisses. Everything was so overwhelming, your cunt being pushed and stretched further than you could really handle. “So tight, baby. Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me awful.” Jeff growled against your swollen lips, biting the plump flesh and tugging his cock out all the way to the head just to thrust right back up again. Ben hummed again your cunt, swallowing you and relishing in the taste, begging for more as Jeff’s cock pushed more out, soaking his tongue. “Hurry up and cum, Jeffrey… My turn…” He mumbled against your puffy lips clenching around his lips so nicely, flicking his tongue against your clit again to force you into an orgasm. His cock hurt against his boxers, pushing desperately to get inside of you as he watched Jeff’s schlick in and out raggedly, glossy with your wetness. He reached down, undoing his sweatpant strings and pushing the waistband below his balls, quickly fisting his cock and jerking, precum dribbling down the length. “Fuck off…” Jeff grit, groaning as your entrance pulsed around him when he angled his hips forward. Ben rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing between your legs, cock in hand as he nudges himself down. He couldn’t wait any longer. 
Pressing a knee into the space between Jeff’s spread legs, Ben pushes the head of his cock between your spread folds, every bounce of your hips down onto Jeff’s cock forcing the blond’s cockhead to nudge against your clit, making you whine. Ben cursed, your slick gliding across the underside of his length and rubbing him as he reached to grip your tits, massaging the mounds as Jeff glared. 
The stimulation was too much, cunt overwhelmed as Jeff thrust harder, trying desperately to prove you could cum without the elf’s help. He let go of your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his face into your neck, biting down. You cried, hands pressed against his arms and clawing at his skin, legs curling around Ben’s waist as you sobbed, cunt aching and all too sensitive. Skin slapped loudly, juices squelching, and messy slobber hanging on your lips, babbling. You swelled, cockhead still against your clit and nudging you to an orgasm, rolling your eyes back as Jeff clenched his teeth into your skin, groaning his own. He didn’t slow down though, hips pulsing just as fast as he spilt into you, syrupy walls clenching tightly around the girth and milking him, pulsing with every twitch inside. “Jesus…” Ben gasped, fisting his cock as he watched your face flush, heavy eyes zoning out as you felt light, rolling your hips lazily to ride out your orgasm. “Fuck babygirl… What the fuck…” He groaned, lapping at the swollen skin that was forming from his bite, kissing your shoulder until he was focused enough to slip his soaked cock out of your cunt. 
Ben was quick to move, desperately tugging you up and twisting you around, knowing you didn’t have good enough strength to sit up anymore. Panting and still hazed, you dug your knees into the couch, straddling Jeff as you pressed your chest against his, hiding your face into his shoulder. Ben nudged behind you, tugging your hips back to meet his and groping at your ass, pulling the skin apart to see your soaked cunt. “Just one more, yeah princess?” Ben huffed, fisting his cock lazily as he pressed the tip between your folds, the warmth already tugging him closer. You sobbed, gripping Jeff’s shoulders and tugging at his hoodie as you nodded, arching gently as Ben slipped his head in.
Your cunt was so warm, so goopy and swollen from your orgasm, but constricting around Ben’s cock just right. Jeff’s cum threatened to leak out, dropping down but Ben caught it with his head, pushing it back into your entrance with a smile. He growled, his left hand holding his hoodie up to his chest while his right gripped onto your hip, nails digging in. Jeff reached around, wrapping his around your back as he kissed your cheek, watching closely as Ben sunk in. “Easy, you fuckin’ pixel bitch,” Jeff warned, reaching down to grip your ass, tugging the mounds in his rough hands as the blond scoffed. “She can take it.” He snapped his hips.
Now, Ben wasn’t as large as Jeff, but he knew how to sway his thrusts just right to make you fall apart. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he pushed down, forcing you to arch as he thrust up into your soppy walls, your cries loud and ragged against Jeff’s shoulder. “Plea- Please- Jesus-” You cried, reaching your hands to grip into Jeff’s messy hair, each snap of Ben’s hips jolting you forward with a slap. Jeff’s arms tensed around you, groaning as he soaked up your cries, cock fluttering to life again underneath. You leaned back, babbling something unheard as you connected your lips with Jeff’s moaning desperately into his mouth, Ben gritting as he snapped upwards into your walls. Reaching forward, the blond tangled his fist into the back of your hair, gripping tight and tugging a chunk back, snapping your head back as you cried. 
The elf was overwhelmed, a whining and grunting mess as his hips jolted, slapping loudly into yours as he tugged your hair. He leaned forward, forcing your face to turn as he pecked at your wet lips, brows knit as he continued his pace. Ben was shaking, lost in the warmth and wetness as he slammed in without any sense of coordination, you whimpering against his lips. Jeff growled, gripping your jaw and forcing you back to his lips, a little desperate game of possession starting up. Every few thrusts, the lips you were on would change, the two passing you between them as Jeff snaked a hand along your stomach, reaching to rub at your clit as he licked at your lips. You whined, hips jerking to meet the sensation as Ben tugged your head back to his, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt dizzy, position changing so often that you felt like you were spinning as your jaw was dragged back to another pair of lips. 
Fed up, you reached behind you, dragging Ben’s head closer as Jeff invaded your mouth, pressing the blond’s lips against yours as well. They both grunted, both tongues slipping into your mouth and fighting for more space, Ben’s thrusts becoming shallow and lazy as he tugged at your swollen lips. Slobber ran and mixed, whines and pants flowing into each other’s mouths as they both shared you, both dragged you onto another orgasm as Jeff’s fingers pinched your clit, Ben’s cock shoving itself deeper when he tugged your hair hard enough to make you cry. 
The boys were groaning, moaning against your lips as you came, drinking in your sounds as Ben bottomed out, letting you drag him along as well. Ben let off, his head dropping down against your shoulder as he came deep into your cunt, mixing his cum with Jeff’s, his fists gripping your hips tight and tugging you back further onto him. You pawed at Jeff’s chest, his muscles heaving with every breath as he held you, watching with wide eyes as you gasped through your orgasm, jaw hanging slack and eyes rolling back gently. “So good, babygirl. Look so good like this.” He smiled, gazing at Ben whose face was clenched tight, spilling what was left of his seed and tugging out, watching as your red lips swelled around his head. All of you were sweaty and hot, the TV glow reflecting bright against your red faces and hair clinging to your skin. Pants and grunts followed as you all plopped onto the couch, Jeff holding you as Ben lay on the opposite end, admiring your drenched cunt slowly leaking the mixed cum. 
Ben felt so content, so good watching you slowly drift in Jeff’s arms, the killer glancing at him and nodding his head, beckoning for him to come closer. “You look good too. I guess.” Jeff huffed as Ben crawled over, the elf laughing as he awkwardly slid under you, your body crammed between the two as they held you. “So, princess. Who’s the winner?” Ben smiled against your ear, smirking at Jeff as you groaned, glancing through heavy eyes.
“Couldn’t decide. Might need a couple more tries to figure it out.” You mumbled quietly against Jeff’s shoulder, closing your eyes and not thinking anything of the comment as your tired body took over. The boys, however, smiled at each other, rummaging around and positioning you snugly between them. “Good idea.” Jeff smiled, gripping under your knees and pushing them apart, each thigh spread over either boy’s waist. You stirred again, eyes shooting open as Jeff reached around to shove his fingers between your folds, pressing them inside achingly quickly. Ben followed, nudging his face into your neck and kissing the skin as his hands gripped your tits, massaging your arousal back to life. Whining, you gave in, reaching around to grip both of their heads closer to yours as you moaned, their fingers ravaging. 
Maybe you could teach them to share, maybe even then you could teach them to be nice…
This was an anonymous request!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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gojoest · 5 months ago
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MDNI, f! reader, fingering, thigh fucking, creampie, satoru calls you pretty + my darling + my love, he cums so easily, wc: 1.1k, not proofread as always, bit messy too (i am so sleep deprived)
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the fresh, tangy scent of coffee wafted through the air, momentarily distracting your senses from the smell of sex lingering on you from last night’s activities as you watched the coffee machine fill your mug. elbows resting on the counter as you waited for your drink, and a few seconds in—your nose adapted, you could once again distinguish the musk soaked into your skin.
you smelled like satoru — his cum, his sweat — lots of it in fact; but also like yourself. both of you combined and oiled all over your body, especially on your inner thighs.
you had noticed, in fact as soon as you got up and made your way to the kitchen — layers of his now dried load parched and glued onto the plush between your legs, reminding you of how many times he came inside you last night, ineluctably feeling its still somewhat sticky texture as your legs brushed against each other with every step.
a soft smile cracked your lips at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. it was time, you thought, he was coming to you.
satoru could never stay in bed too long without you. no matter what kind of deep slumber he were to be in, he’d always wake up shortly after were you to sneak out. i become restless when you’re not in my arms, he would say.
“morning”, you smiled but didn’t turn around. “coffee?”
“morning, pretty”. he stopped right behind you. you figured he was naked — the tip of his cock, hard and rigidly up already, was poking at the small of your back.
a hand slid under the oversized shirt you had quickly tossed on yourself, palming the bare cheeks of your ass — “i want some of that, definitely” — grabbing a handful and squeezing it inside his massive hand.
a hum dragged out of you, body jolting and back arching from the way the squishing caused one of his fingers to graze against your cunt, the tip of it almost prodding at your entrance. “i’m so hard, i can bust any moment”, his voice still low and loaded with sleep. there was something so undeniably sexy about the way he spoke to you in the mornings. drowsy, husky and lower than usual. “but i want it to be in you”
he rested his chin on your shoulder from behind, snaking his other arm around your waist to hold you still while the one between your legs worked the arousal out of you carefully. two digits rubbing against your folds, wiping the insides of your lips with the tips. you could feel a huge portion of your slick gathering at your entrance, threatening to blob on the floor any moment. but his hungry hand went for it first — he used his entire palm to wipe it off and then held it tightly pressed against your cunt for a few moments.
“s-shit”, you hissed, head falling down.
lifting the hem of your shirt you watched as his fingers peeked from in front. it was such an obscene view — your entire pussy inside his massive palm.
“can’t have you making a mess here, my darling. it’s the kitchen after all — it’s where we eat”, he pulled his hand away only to smear your slick all over his cock with a few slow strokes.
“says the man who’s fucked me on every possible surface in this very kitchen”
“almost every surface — i didn’t fuck you by the coffee machine, you see”, the smug in his voice was evident, “gotta fix that now. you just stay still and pretty the way you are”
bending his knees he lowered himself just enough to sneak his cock between the gap of your legs and brought your thighs together with his hands forcing them to clench around him. you smiled after realizing what he was up to. “can you cum from this?”, you looked at him over your shoulder.
“i can cum just by being next to you, my darling”, he breathed out a moan at the friction around his throbbing cock, pushing himself forward and effortlessly sliding across your sopping cunt all thanks to the little prep sesh from before.
“oh, f-fuck—“, satoru quivered when you took his tip poking out from in front and pressed it against your clit. “—fuck”, squeezing your thighs, bringing them more together, he settled into a rhythm of slowly drawing his hips back and forth into the slippery crevasse between your legs. “keep holding it like that… please, my love—it makes your lips kiss my cock”, he groaned through yet another slow thrust forward. the squelching noises, too, they were fucking with his brain. the vast ocean of you was right before him, yet he was only dipping his feet. regardless, it felt so fucking good.
“of course, baby”, you breathed, holding his cock flat against yourself from the underside — helping the upper side grind harder against your pussy, rubbing it on your clit each time he pushed himself forward. you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched his cock go in and out of the gap of your thighs swiftly.
“nghh..”, satoru moaned, his breathing now shallow as he felt the tingles at the base of his shaft. the tension rising in his groin rapidly, he wasn’t sure if he could endure a few more strokes without busting his balls out. “i’m sorry, love… don’t think i can hold it back…”, sweat dripping down his face and onto the back of your shoulder, he was desperately trying to keep his load under control as part of him was guilty that he was about to finish first.
“shh”, you hushed, rocking your hips against him to match his pace, to help him out. “you can cum, baby — do it for me”
your words were almost the end of him, but he managed to stop himself and paused his ministrations. pulling back from you slightly to spread his legs a bit more and grab a hold of his throbbing cock to guide it into your entrance and slowly slide it in.
“fuck” — he wasn’t even halfway in when all the tension in his balls suddenly released. he let out a loud groan, body slightly spasming as he shot a hot glob of his cum inside you…
extra:
“see — when i cum there is no mess”, his hands circled around your waist from behind (cock still inside you)
“that’s because you unload inside me. besides you haven’t pulled out yet”, you snorted, placing your hands over his.
“i’m not pulling out, yet”, his lips kissed the top of your head. “but i will ask of you to walk with me to the table”
“hmm, and why would i do that?”
“i am going to eat you there, for breakfast”
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bklynsboys · 5 months ago
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The Theory on Other Halves
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pairing: spencer reid x reader summary: "there's an old buddhist saying, i once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." genre: fluff word count: 1k author's notes: i wrote this because this particular line of spencer's is one of my absolute favorites! i think it's really beautiful how all of the people we love were meant to be in our lives since 500 years ago. and of course, as a fan of space & constellations, i had to insert it into this fic. enjoy <3
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THE AIR HUNG HEAVY WITH THE AFTERMATH OF A PARTICULARLY BRUTAL CASE—TYPICAL FOR A DAY IN THE BAU. Dust specks danced in the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Hotch decided it'd be best to give the team a few hours to rest in the motel before heading back home. If it were up to you, you'd be back in your bed as soon as humanly possible, but rooming with the resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid—the object of your unspoken affections—is an opportunity you wouldn't miss.
For months, the two of you have shared a silent dance of exchanged glances and shared interests. Your colleagues, particularly the girls whom you confided in, seemed to think it was mutual. Now, you sat across from each other on motel beds, a comfortable silence blanketing the room. You traced a thoughtful finger along the rim of your empty coffee cup.
"You have a constellation," he said softly, breaking the stillness.
Your gaze flicked to Spencer, then down to your arm where his hand had landed. A faint scattering of moles dotted the inside of your forearm, resembling a modicum of stars. A small smile tugged at your lips.
"Looks like Ursa Major," he mused, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Though perhaps a little worse for wear, and without the usual bright light, of course."
You chuckled, mirroring his action on your arm. There, nestled just below your elbow, was a crescent moon birthmark, a surprise you always enjoyed revealing.
"Here's another one," you offered.
He turned his hand, examining the crescent with a childlike curiosity. " It's beautiful," he said simply.
"Did you know," Spencer added softly, his voice barely a murmur, "that the ancient Greek saw Ursa Major as a bear?"
You tilted your head, surprised by the random fact. " A bear?"
A smile played on his lip. " Apparently, the constellation's asterism resembled the animal to them. Makes you wonder what they saw in the night sky that we don't."
"Well, my mom had a different take on that," you began, a fond memory surfacing. " She used to say my moon and stars meant I'd meet a space nerd someday who'd love these marks, and we'd be orbiting each other, kind of like the Earth and the sun. She was into soulmates, you see, and space."
The conversation flowed easily, a map of your bodies sketched through shared stories. You pointed to a jagged scar on your knee, the fading memory of you running around and ending up with a scrape on your knee. He, in turn, showed you the faint line on his palm, a souvenir from a particularly enthusiastic attempt at a science experiment as a child.
Your fingers trailed down the faint scar near his hairline, so faint one wouldn't notice it if they weren't looking at Spencer's face intently. "What's this from?" you asked gently.
Spencer chuckled. " You know, how I have really bad coordination?" He sighed. " I was lost in a book, I ran straight into a doorpost. My mom called me 'Crash' after that."
You squeezed his hand gently, a silent understanding passing between you. You knew how much Spencer cherished his mom, especially with her health declining. Sharing stories about her felt like a tender offering of his vulnerability.
He returned the gesture, his thumb tracing the faint outline of a mango-shaped birthmark on your back. " My mom swears it's from all the mangoes she craved while pregnant," you said with a laugh, remembering your childhood debates about the science behind birthmarks.
As the night wore on, your exploration became a conversation without words. You ended up curled up on one bed. You ran your fingers over the slight dip in his lower back, a lingering ache from a wrestling match between an unsub gone wrong. He skimmed his thumb across the freckle dusting your shoulder, a map of sun-drenched summer days.
There was no urgency, no pressure. Just a quiet appreciation for the way your bodies, like your minds, fit together, like puzzle pieces worn from being fitted together—entangled from experiences, both big and small. In the faint intimacy, you found a deeper connection, a comfort that transcended beyond just physical.
Suddenly, Spencer spoke, his voice soft. " Maybe your mom was right, you know."
"Right about what?" You murmured, head tilting at the man's question.
His gaze met yours, a thoughtful crease furrowing his brow. " About finding your soulmate," he said hesitantly. " There's an old Buddhist saying, I once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making."
A thoughtful hum escaped your lips. " That's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered.
He continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Plato once wrote humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces, but Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half."
A soft blush crept up your neck. You hadn't expected such a personal turn in the conversation.
"Plato," you murmured, surprised." The one who wasn't a big fan of the soulmate idea, right?"
Spencer's lips curved into a small smile.
"True," he admitted. "But even a brilliant mind like his couldn't deny the undeniable pull we sometimes feel towards certain people. Maybe the Greeks weren't so far off . Maybe the stars, the constellations, these little imperfections on our skin... Maybe they all tell us a story of where we belong."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You found yourself captivated by the way the moonlight glinted in his eyes.
"So," you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "are you saying we're destined to be wandering halves searching for the other?"
Spencer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "No," he said, his voice a smooth cadence. " Maybe... Maybe we already found each other."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken sentiments. The air crackled with a tension that both terrified and exhilarated you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat to the quiet reverberation of the night. Curled beside him, Spencer's arm draped casually across you, its weight a comforting presence, you drifted off to sleep.
A faint smile touched Spencer's lips as he listened to your soft snores. "Good night," he whispered into the darkness.
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moonlightsolo · 1 year ago
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Imagine going to the bioluminescent forest to research plants and neteyam is bathing there but you haven’t met and you try to sneak away before he sees you watching him🫣🫠
wow i finally finished this after literally months & it was definitely worth the wait ;)
very descriptive smut 18+ minors dni pls!!!! & thx to @cinetrix for fueling my delusions w these photos <3
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the forest of pandora; one of the many treasures of the extrasolar moon.
coming from earth, where the greenery has been absorbed by concrete jungles, this new planet is fascinating to you.
pandora’s lush paradise is filled with rich varying colors, and trees that tower into the atmosphere. being a xenobiologist in this environment, is like hitting the jackpot.
the bizarre flora can keep you occupied for hours, every time you step foot outside you always find something new to observe.
but when you stumble upon a na’vi you haven’t seen before- and somehow looks vaguely familiar… you can’t help but gawk at him as he washes himself in a steaming lagoon.
being surrounded by na’vi is intimidating. especially when they’re tall, and lean, and everything that your human form is not. you work alongside the omatikaya clan, thankful that you were too young to travel in cryo after the war.
but as you continue to stare from the tree line, you observe the adornments in the man’s hair, and the neckpiece that confirms he belongs to the clan you work alongside.
how have you never seen this na’vi before? you know everyone! from the olo’eyktan, to the tsahìk. you crouch down in your spot in the shadows of the trees, watching how he softly scrubs his body and creates white suds over his blue skin.
you admire him from afar, taking note of the valleys of his defined muscles and how they protrude magnificently from having a low percentage of body fat, if any.
although you appreciate the plants, the best part of the planet is ingenious species of the world— the na’vi.
their skin is a muted cyan, and adorned with stripes that are not all uniform. they’re also tall, much taller than an above average human male- and their bones are reinforced with a naturally occurring carbon fiber, making their muscles sharp and chiseled…
…and this one is absolutely breathtaking. his nose is perfectly slanted, and his ears are pointed yet soft at the same time. his eyes are round and golden like the star that shines in the sky.
god, is he fucking tall, like a tree. you feel like if you would stand next to him, you would only reach his goddamn elbow! oh man, you’d like to climb him.
you shake away your dirty thoughts, almost laughing at yourself for thinking so irrationally. you’re crouched here, stalking a na’vi as he bathes— what a creep.
you stand up fully to turn around and walk the opposite way, but your foot crunches loudly on a thick twig. it’s almost like a chain reaction as a nearby animal in the bush darts out in attempt to escape from your human self.
instinctively, you let out a screech as you stumble backwards to run away from the scared little thing. your heels catch the fallen log, the one you were previously hiding behind, and your knees buckle which sends you hurtling over the wood.
you tumble backwards past the treeline, and into the open field. you land on your butt with your back facing the lagoon. your heart is pounding out of your chest, whether it’s from the animal startling you, or the embarrassment of the na’vi now knowing you were in the trees near him.
you take a deep breath to calm your nerves, one of your hands rest on your chest as you attempt to control your breathing. oh god, you’re such a weirdo. he has to know you were watching him. maybe you can play it off as you simply tripping and falling.
before you could seek out where the na’vi is, a large heavy hand lays on your shoulders from behind. the feeling startles you, and makes your entire body jolt to spin around on your butt and face the intruder.
“oh god… hi.” you puff out breathlessly, and your eyes look over his damp body and the pearly-white smile on his face.
“you okay?” his accented voice speaks in english.
your face obviously looks taken aback, which makes him take a step away from you and his hand falls back to his side. “i’m okay, yeah… yeah, wait — you speak english?” your eyes peer up at him curiously as you stand to your feet, and he can’t help but smile at the inquisitive look on your human face.
“i do.. i grew up speaking it alongside my family, i’d rather speak my peoples language, but you’re not one of them.” his deep voice hums, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze flits over your body.
you’ll say it is a warm day today on pandora, so you’re not completely covered up; you’re wearing a thin tank top that you ripped into a crop, and some tiny khaki shorts that sit high on your waist and short on your thighs.
you can feel your cheeks heat up from him evidently checking you out, which makes your arms cross over your chest to shield your body.
his eyes slightly widen when you unintentionally press your breasts closer to each other. the man swallows and lifts his eyes to your face behind your mask, now knowing that you caught him in the act.
“i’m neteyam.” he extends one of his very large hands, which you gladly take. his hand is warm and heavy in yours, practically engulfing your own hand in his palm.
you smile at his introduction, then your face screws up in confusion. your brain wracks through every memory of where you could have heard that name before. then it clicks, and suddenly your eyes widen in realization, “neteyam sully?” you blurt out, still unknowingly shaking his hand like a mad man.
“uh… yes. that’s me?” he chuckles awkwardly, and looks at your hands still moving between your bodies.
neteyam sully— the olo’eyktan’s son, the stealthy warrior of the sky. the one who rarely makes an appearance in the clan because of his strenous mission to seek out the RDA.
“i know your dad, and your entire family. i work with the omatikaya!!” your eyes dart down to your shaking hands before pulling away in embarrassment.
“oh. you’re the girl? the one norm and max brought in..” he hums, almost like a purr, and his arms cross over his toned chest.
the girl? so he’s heard about you.
“i guess that’s me…?” you let out a nervous laugh, “i’m y/n by the way. it’s nice to finally meet you, i’ve heard a lot about you.” you can’t help but beam at him.
it’s almost as if he is a legend to the omatikaya because seeing him is such a rare occurrence. after his family had returned from the island clan, neteyam went into hiding to track down the RDA, to avenge his people that were lost in the war.
your eyes trail down his body, unable to help yourself; sometimes you can’t get over how beautiful the na’vi are.
neteyam places his hands on his hips as he watches your eyes rake over the expanse of his body, “like what ya see?” he arrogantly asks with a smirk.
you take a step back once you hear his words, “no- no… i—.” you raise your hands in surrender as your cheeks burn with a blush.
“i’m sorry. i was just… admiring, i guess.. i study the entirety pandora so it’s always fascinating to see something new.” your voice is slightly muffled from your mask, and your hushed tone.
slender fingers wrap around your wrists to gently tug your hands away from the surface of the mask, “don’t worry, i’m just messing around.”
when neteyam comes into view, his face is much closer to you from him being slightly bent down. you can see every detail, every subtle knick in his skin from previous injuries, and the slight pink tint to the tip of his nose and his cheeks.
god, he is one beautiful na’vi.
he stands up straight and clears his throat, “go ahead. examine whatever you want. i’ll be your test subject.. doctor.” he sarcastically nods toward you from the nickname, and places his hands on his hips.
the nickname makes a shiver run down your spine—you’re definitely no doctor, but you’ll take it.
you gulp as you allow yourself to peer over his body, letting your eyes run over his muscles and the stripes that adorn his skin. the sun hides behind clouds in the sky, casting a dark shadow over the two of you.
his bioluminescent freckles sparkle in the shadows, and you can’t help but reach out and touch them. his body shudders under your soft touch as your fingertips gracefully run over the spots that adorn his chest. following the trails that lead farther down his abdomen.
neteyam seems to have been sculpted by eywa herself.
“may i say… you are quite beautiful.” his deep voice blurts in the tension-filled air, causing your lungs to constrict from the compliment.
you stare up at him through your eyelashes, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “so are you.” you reply with a small smile.
he lets out a little breathy, ‘hmph’ from your reply, as if he was amused by it. he bows his head toward you in an act of silently thanking you.
one of his hands rise to play with the wild hair sticking out beside your ears. then he lets his fingers trail down the border of your mask and down your neck; the feather-light touches make your skin crawl.
the look in his eyes darken as he stares down at you, which makes your stomach fill with butterflies. how does someone you just met have such an effect on you?
“i know you were watching me earlier.” his sultry voice purrs out, as his thumb works to rub soft circles into your throat.
your eyes blow wide, and your mouth slightly falls open from his confession, “i–i.. what?” you breathe out as heat fills your entire body, and humiliation burns at your skin.
“it’s okay. do not worry…” he chuckles from your obvious panic and swipes his thumb under your chin to tilt your face up, “i enjoy having your eyes on me.” his deep voice rumbles quietly, but still loud enough to make your skin crawl with goosebumps.
you can feel the heat pool in between your legs from his soft touches. his eyes peer into yours, and you watch how his pink tongue darts out to lick his lips as he stares at you.
you feel shame sit heavy in your chest from how aroused you are. you shouldn’t be doing this and he shouldn’t be encouraging it; he’s na’vi and the son of your boss, and you’re human. there’s absolutely no way this would be possible.
neteyam can tell your mind is overworking itself as your eyes flicker over his face. he takes the opportunity to swoop down and press his lips to your ear, making you gasp in surprise.
no fucking way he’s this close to you right now.
he pulls back, but just enough so his lips were ghosting over the glass, fogging it up and wishing you could kiss him.
the striking yellow of his irises makes your lower stomach clench, and the firm feeling of his hands running down your body makes you bite back a moan.
“tell me to stop… and i will.” he breathes out with a hint of a smirk crawling on his perfect lips.
“we–we shouldn’t…” your voice is breathless, and you can feel your body trembling; whether it’s from nervousness or the anticipation of what is about to happen.
there’s an inexplicable chemistry that cannot be ignored between the two of you.
“you’re right, we shouldn’t…” he takes a step back, tearing himself away from you; which makes you suck in a sharp desperate breath. you don’t want him to stop, “but wouldn’t it be fun?” he swoops back and grabs your hips harshly to pull you into his body.
neteyam can only be honest with himself. being a warrior is tough, especially being away from his family. but one of the worst parts is that he doesn’t have a woman to feed his hunger, to release his pent up frustration— the only thing he is left with is his own hands.
so when a beautiful human girl stumbles onto his path, he can’t help but allow lust to cloud his vision.
a whimper escapes your throat when his hot body presses into you, and the feeling of his bulge sitting on your stomach makes your knees want to buckle. “is that a yes?” he hisses out under his breath.
you fervently nod in agreement, “please. i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” you whine out, almost turning into putty in his strong hold.
neteyam’s tail whips behind him at the sound of that and a cocky sneer forms on his face. he finally closes the gap between your bodies as his hands grip your upper thighs, lifting your body up to his level.
your arms swing themselves around his neck, and your thighs tightly squeeze his waist as he holds you in the air.
he attaches lips to the junction of skin that connects your neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking on your warm body- sending shivers to wrack down your spine. his entire presence is intoxicating to you, and you crave even more from him.
the na’vi stumbles forward to a nearby tree to press your back against it, now your hips are almost flush. only separated by his loin cloth, and your thin shorts. you can feel the weaved fabric of his cloth press against your center, which makes a soft whine spill from your lips.
neteyam smiles against your neck, pulling back to look over your face for a moment. the look in his eyes makes you want to drop to your knees right at this moment, but he’s quick to lean down and continue his attack against your neck.
his sharp teeth carefully nip at your skin and his lips suck little love bites, causing lovely red spots that’ll inevitably show up darker later. the feeling causes an explosion of flutters to erupt across your nerve-endings.
his hands hold your body in place against the tree as he lowers himself, kissing down your collarbones and making his way to your breasts, “take it off.” he breathes out, almost like a desperate hiss.
his eyes dart from your face to your tank top, licking his lips in anticipation. you quickly oblige, pulling your hands from his braids to swiftly tug the flimsy fabric over your head.
you toss it somewhere beneath you to the mossy ground, now left completely shirtless. you silently thank yourself for not wearing a bra today.
neteyam’s tail waves entrancingly behind him as he looks over your naked chest, “mmm, sevin..” he purrs in his native tongue, which almost made you climax at the sound of it.
you recognize that word as ‘pretty’… he called you pretty. the compliment obviously makes your cheeks flush, and he takes notice to it and a smile grows on his handsome face.
he grins at your shyness, and leans forward to look into your eyes. “you are.” his voice rumbles, as one of his hands snakes up to rest on your naked chest.
the feeling of his large hand on your body makes you bite your bottom lip, his hand covers your entire breast and his fingers reach to your collarbone. he takes his time with you as he leaves wet kisses all over your chest until he reaches the other unoccupied one.
he kisses along your nipple, playfully licking at it like a cat before making his way farther down your body. the hand on your breast keeps your body in place as he lowers himself. his teeth nip as the waist band of your shorts, expertly undoing the button with his mouth.
the heat of his mouth unfortunately leaves your body, which makes you wriggle in his grip. “be patient, little one.” he chuckles, and uses one arm to hold your entire body up while the other busies itself tugging your shorts off of your legs. thankfully, he doesn’t ruin them for future use, since human clothes are a rare thing to come across on pandora.
he frowns when he sees your underwear, “so many layers… why?” he grumbles.
a giggle tumbles past your lips, but you snap your mouth shut to stop yourself, “why are you laughing?” he stares up at you from between your legs. the sight of him so close to where you need him makes you salivate.
“m’sorry. it’s just funny.” you stifle more laughter from sputtering out, as a mischievous smile tugs up onto his face. “your kind is funny. na’vi only have our tweng, and that’s it. none of whatever this is..” he huffs as he expertly moves your legs onto his shoulders, now face to face with your center.
one of his fingers hooks into the elastic of your panties, and lets it snap back against your skin. the feeling makes you jolt in his arms as the burn soothes itself.
neteyam places lazy kisses along your inner thigh, smiling as he feels you shudder in his hands, “sensitive.” his hot breath puffs against the damp fabric of your underwear.
you whine in his arms, instinctively bucking your hips forward. he tsks and his ears flatten against the side of his head, “patience, love. patience.” his voice soothes you as he unsheathes his blade from his hip.
“wait! what are you doing?” you attempt to wriggle out of his grip, but he is relentless and too strong- which in all honesty turns you on even more.
“shhh.” he hushes you as one of his fingers stretch the fabric of your cotton panties away from your hip, and he brings the knife up to cleanly slice it in two places.
the thin fabric falls to the ground and your mouth is hanging open in shock. somehow, you can’t even be mad at him for ruining your underwear from how fucking hot that was.
“this okay?” he breathes out teasingly over your core, and all you can do is nod. you’re about to get eaten out by a na’vi, for the matter of fact the olo’eyktan’s eldest son. you wish he could pinch you right now because this seems like a dream.
once neteyam receives your consent, he dives forward. his long tongue explores your folds, making the back of your head slam against the trunk of the tree as you cry out to the sky.
your hands instantly find solace in his braids, as the heat of his mouth finds every possible pleasure-filled spot.
“oh god…!” you let out a loud moan, and your fists grip his braids harsher. your movements cause a hoarse moan to vibrate from his mouth, up into you.
which earns neteyam another loud cry to spill from your swollen lips; it’s like music to his ears. he digs his face farther into your mound, wiggling his face back and forth to coax more of those delightful sounds out of you.
your chest puffs crazily and your back arches off of the rough surface of the tree bark, “yes, oh my god.. fuck- i’m gonna- don’t stop!” you ramble out, as your hips involuntarily buck against his face.
neteyam chuckles as your eagerness, smiling against you as he pulls away to allow you to calm down. the scene between your legs makes you feel as if you could come untouched. no way this man is edging you right now.
he is smiling all giddy, his pearly whites on show with your slick glistening around his mouth. it’s something of your deepest darkest fantasies, you wish you could take a picture so you could never forget it.
your chest heaves as your body attempts to soothe your built up high that was sinfully stolen from you, “what is this god you talk about?” he questions as he pulls you away from the tree, and slides your body down his so your legs are around his waist again.
“someone we humans admire. like eywa to the na’vi.” you sigh out and lean back against the tree.
a sudden surge of confidence floods your body, allowing your nervousness to wash away. knowing that neteyam is strong enough to hold you up, so you allow yourself to unhook your hands from around his neck.
“like eywa?” he questions with a hum, his round eyes intently watch your every move.
your hands run down his neck, to his chest and over his muscles and scars. “yes, like eywa, and i prefer eywa as well.” your breathing shudders as you lean forward rest your mask against his chest.
you can’t help but notice the tiny smirk on his lips from your comment.
your fingers reach up to your face, sliding your finger under the seal to pull it away from your face. his eyes go wide as he stutters over his words, and his hands fly up to press it back against your face.
“what are you doing? you will die, we’re too far to get help.”
your glossy eyes look up at him through your eyelashes, “trust me. i won’t die. please let me take it off.” you whimper desperately, chewing on your bottom lip.
the begging look you give him makes his stomach do somersaults, unable to stop you from doing whatever you want. with those eyes and that look, you have him wrapped around your finger.
his grip leaves the sides of the mask, and a sneaky smile beams on your face. he surrenders to you, and rests his hands against your sides as he watches the mask fall from your face to hang around your neck.
finally, your beauty is exposed from behind the hazy glass. he’s able to see your face fully, drinking in every beauty mark and the twinkle in your eyes.
while holding your breath, you lean forward to press a kiss against his neck. you allow your tongue to dart out, to lick at his clean skin, to feel his heartbeat pumping against your lips. neteyam lets out an obscene groan, one that rumbles deep in his chest and vibrates against your body.
speaking of your body, it feels as if it’s aching for him, like he put a spell on your mind to obsess over him- as if he’s taken over your nervous system like an addictive drug.
you can feel your lungs starting to scream for oxygen, burning in your chest. with one last moment, you push yourself farther by tugging his face down to yours.
his lips are finally on yours. kissing you with passion and fervor, knowing this will be your first and last kiss unless he sees you again after this affair.
his tongue urgently slips past yours and into your mouth, sucking you in like a vice. he breathes you in as he presses his entire front into your body, pinning you against the tree.
you instinctively suck in a breath of pandora’s air, hoping you would receive the blissful feeling of fresh air in your lungs, but instead it feels as if you’ve inhaled hot embers.
neteyam swiftly shoves the mask back over your face, allowing you to take a deep breath of the oxygen that you desperately needed. the color flooding back into your face as you take deep, slow breaths.
“please…” you breathlessly beg. your voice is more whiny than you intended it to be, but you could care less. his hands busy themselves by pulling the elastic back around your head to situate the mask. his eyes full of worry, but he realizes that your mind is not thinking about how you almost just suffocated.
your head falls back against the tree behind you as your back arches, and your hips buck against him. your body is instinctively trying to seek out the pleasure that he once stole away from you.
“please what, little one?” neteyam’s large hands slide down your soft sides until he reaches your ass. his fingertips dig into the pillowy flesh, kneading it slowly as if he was cherishing the feeling of your skin.
“you are soft. much softer than my people.” his compliment comes out like a growl.
“please, i want to feel you. i need to feel all of you.” your voice whispers out, too embarrassed to really tell him exactly what you want. his golden eyes peer down at you intimidatingly, making you turn your eyes away from him.
“feel me where?” neteyam ducks down to your height, letting his breath ghost over your ear. “tell me.” he demands.
“i—i want you…” your voice trails off as your face burns up in humiliation. “speak with your words. tell me what you want.” his voice raises a little higher than a whisper now. he’s so close to your face, you can feel it.
a little whimper escapes your throat from his demanding tone. you hesitantly turn your face back toward him to stare up into his eyes, “i want you inside of me, neteyam.”
his fingertips dig harder into your ass as he looks over your face for any apprehension. truly, he doesn’t even think he could fit himself in your human body.
“i told you that you could do anything you want to me.” you breathily shudder out, “and i want you to do that to me.”
neteyam doesn’t say anything for a moment, which strikes you with a moment of worry before he pulls you both away from the tree. he walks away from the treeline into the field, to rest your body beside the lagoon in a bed of moss as he kisses at your neck.
the soft feeling of the ground against your naked back makes you shudder from it gently tickling your skin.
as you settle into the warmth of the earth, neteyam settles between your legs. his mouth pulls away from your neck to travel down your jaw, over to your ear.
his hands are busy to spread your thighs around his hips as he suckles at the sensitive spot below your ear. the feeling makes your breathing pattern stutter, and your nails to dig into his back.
“please.” you beg again, “need you.”
one of the hands on the back of your knee rubs down the back of your leg until he meets your inner thigh, “i need to warm you up.”
your eyes dart over his face, “but you already did.” you murmur, eyes blinking up at him dumbly.
neteyam doesn’t listen to you but instead runs a finger through your wet folds, causing you to shut your mouth.
“no warning?” you let out a little laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan when one of his slender fingers slides inside of you.
“oh my…” you moan out, and instinctively reach up to grip at his shoulder. his finger expertly curls up inside of you to press against that spot. and then another finger is added which practically makes your eyes bulge out of your head, “fuck- that feels so good, neteyam.”
“so warm… so tiny.” he grumbles as if he’s talking to himself.
his two fingers feel like a regular human dick, how would you ever be able to take his actual one?
instead of focusing on a pace, he takes his time to massage your walls to open you up. somehow, it feels better than anything you’ve ever felt. he’s pressing against spots you’ve never even discovered. you could even say its a little painful, but it feels too good to protest against.
you cry out, and your hips buck up when he hits a sensitive spot which sends his fingers deeper inside of you. “please. i need you now. i don’t care. please!” you sob out.
neteyam’s eyes are level with your breasts before he sits up on his knees, his fingers pulling out of you to leave you laying there empty.
he intensely watches your tiny body twitch beneath him as he strips himself of his loincloth. he pulls the intricate knots apart and throws the leather cloth to the side.
his cock springs up onto his stomach, finally free from the tight restraints of his tweng.
holy fuck. he’s huge.
and now you understand why he said he needed to warm you up for the second time. your scientist brain takes over as you look over his cock, biting your lip in curiosity. it’s so pretty, which isn’t surprising to you at all.
it’s beautifully blue and has the same stripes as the rest of his body, and the darkening sky makes his white freckles shine as they adorn the veins. his tip is swollen and pink, leaking luminescent pre-cum. you want to take samples, but that would ruin the mood entirely.
you sit up in front of him, licking your lips as you stare up at him. almost silently begging him, “can i touch you?”
“don’t have to ask for that, pretty.” he leans back on his heels, wiggling his hips as he gets comfortable. as you crawl forward, one of his hands reach from his hip to cup your jaw to lead you forward.
your hand reaches down to wrap your tiny hand around his girth, your thumb toying with the almost holographic liquid dribbling from him.
your eyes stay trained to how it trembles under your touch, and how the protruding veins feel under your palm.
you wish you didn’t have this goddamn mask on your face so you could taste him. “wish i could taste you..” you sheepishly admit into the heated air, earning you a guttural groan from neteyam.
which just gives you more motivation to hear more of those heavenly sounds. you tighten your grip around his length, adding your other hand to fist his cock. another melodic sounds escapes his swollen lips, as he watches your hands grip him.
the large blue hand on jaw trails up the side of your face into your hair, carding through the soft wefts and slightly tugging on the roots.
his head falls back when your thumb swirls over his slit, and his hips unintentionally move upwards causing you almost fall backward.
seeing you with your slightly steamed up mask, and an evil grin plastered on your face makes him even more turned on (if that was possible).
neteyam tugs you by your hair up to his face, “no more of that. c’mere.” his voice puffs against your lips as he pats his muscular thighs. which you comply to quickly by scrambling onto him, essentially like climbing a tree.
his hands find their way home to your ass, digging his fingertips into the flesh as he holds you up. you let out a little squeal when your feet leave the ground, and your arms wrap around his neck.
the man chuckles deeply in his chest, and his sight flickers over your face to admire you for a moment. “beautiful.” he breathes out, and leans forward to press his nose into the center of your neck.
neteyam breathes in your scent, letting his tongue swipe up the center to gather it in his mouth. you can feel your body trembling from the longing of wanting to feel him inside of you.
every little movement, or touch he gives you makes you feel as if you’re a ticking time bomb ready to explode. as he kisses at your neck, he keeps you distracted while one of his hands rubs up and down the back of your thigh.
even in the humid night of the forest, goosebumps rise on your skin from the soft touches. with his free hand, he positions his cock under you slowly letting some slack go from holding you up.
his tip prods at your entrance slightly, making your entire body jolt upwards from the surprise of the feeling. “sorry, i-..”
“shhh. let me take care of you.” he hushes against your skin, his breath feels cold from the wetness he left behind. he rests his forehead on the center of your chest between your collarbones, his eyes training on the spot between your legs where your bodies begin to meet.
the stretching feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is almost unbearable, and you instinctively dig your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.
the feeling of your tightness around him is almost painful for him too, you’re just so small.
a pained whimper tumbles past your lips as you dig your head into the side of his neck, panting against his blue skin. the grip on your ass tightens as he stops your body from lowering more.
you can’t help but glance down between your bodies past his head to see you’ve taken about half of him inside of you.
“doing so good, little one. you want more?” his eyes look up at you, his pupils blown wide.
“yes.” you hiss out, honestly not even knowing why you agreed to that when you’re still adjusting to the length of half of him.
neteyam greedily let’s you sink farther onto his cock, relishing in the feeling of your fluttering walls sucking him in farther.
your head falls back as you cry out, feeling slight tears spring into your waterline from him splitting you open.
“lemme hear you.” he groans out against your warm skin, his rough tongue licks at your skin and sucks red marks into your jawline.
“o-ooh ffff-fuck.” you stutter out, eyes rolling back in your head as you take it all in. your ass sits flush against his thighs, your own legs wrapped around his hips.
it takes every amount of neteyam’s inner strength to not fuck up into you like you’re his own personal toy; to completely destroy you from his unrelenting pace.
but his heart tugs at even the slightest thought of hurting your tiny body. knowing his larger size has the power to do so.
he lets you adjust to his length and girth, his own muscles quivering from the feeling of your wetness contracting around him. sweat starts to form at his temples, his eyes blown dark with lust.
you experimentally shift your hips to test the waters, pain strikes up your spine but it’s not as bad as it was before.
neteyam’s unintentionally jolts his hips upward into you, making your eyes blow wide and your arms scramble to wrap back around his neck. “sorry, sorry..” he rushes to apologize.
you know that you sitting on his cock is slowly eating away at his brain, so you finally take a deep breath. “you can move…”
neteyam let’s out air he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that he can finally fuck you like he’s been aching to do.
both of his feet plant into the ground as he wiggles his hips upward into you. he pulls his hips back before snapping them up so his cock pushes back into you, “fuck!” you cry out, gasping as he continues the same movement.
neteyam works up to a steady pace, groaning as your body bounces on his lap from his sharp thrusts.
the pain finally starts to subside, and turns into pure ecstasy. “just like that, neteyam.” you push away from his chest, resting your hands on his chest as his hands grip your hips like a vice. there’s definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow.
your body is pushed past it’s limit as his cock drills into your small body. the sound of slapping skin filling the environment around you, alongside your pornagraphic sounds leaving your mouth.
neteyam watches how your hair flies with every thrust of his hips, how your skin slightly jiggles from the force, how your breasts bounce deliciously in front of his face. he is in awe; he couldn’t find any na’vi that is this soft and pliable.
in a swift turn of events, neteyam flips himself over and lays you down on the plush ground. you whine from the emptiness of him leaving you, which is cut off by a gasp as he quickly pushes back inside of your warmth.
his pace quickly finds its rhythm again, as one of his hands pushes on the back of your thigh so your knee meets your collarbone.
the new position makes you feel even fuller than before, and this give neteyam full range to bottom out inside of you. out of pure blinded pleasure, your hands reach out to grip his sides- digging your nails into his flesh as your body jolts whenever his hips meet yours.
“m’gonna come.” he groans out deeply, his voice raspy and yet so smooth. neteyam feels embarrassed from being so close already, but he hasn’t felt anything this good in months, maybe a year. he’s been stuck with his own fist, and ultimately gave up on it a few weeks ago.
his frustration was at its peak, and ready to release.
“come for me, ‘teyam. inside.” you manage to blurt out in your cock-drunken haziness.
that was it for him. he continues pushing his cock info you as his body shudders and he moans. it’s like music to your ears.
your eyes flutter open to watch his beautiful face screw up in pleasure, the pleasure that you’ve given him. but your eyes widen when you realize, his freckles are pulsing subtly as he finishes inside of you.
oh my god, he is magnificent.
that sends you over the edge, and you tighten around him like a vice which makes him hiss. you cry out as your back arches off the ground, and your hands grasp at any muscle in his back you could find.
neteyam takes the opportunity to slither an arm under your back as he lazily fucks up into you. your hips twitch wildly, and your thighs tremble as you wrap them around his hips.
your heart pounds out of your chest as you attempt to catch your breath, the ringing in your ears subsides and all you hear is your loud breathing inside of your mask.
“you are amazing, oeyä yawntutsyìp.” he breathily speaks his native language to you, which makes you grin.
“your darling, hm?” you puff out with a tired smile on your face.
“wish i could kiss you right now.” he hums, and experimentally wiggles his hips which makes you squeal. “don’t do that!” you cackle.
neteyam chuckles, and slowly pulls out of you and leans to rest beside you on his side. he watches your face screw up in pain and he frowns.
“was i too rough with you?” he genuinely asks and his hand moves to rest on your belly. you instantly shake your head no.
“no, it was perfect. amazing, even. i’m just sore- i haven’t… ya know, had sex in a while.” you admit with a flush to your cheeks.
“i’m embarrassed to admit that was the same for me.” neteyam shyly chuckles, before something flashes in his eyes.
he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the middle of your chest, “i must thank you. i’m glad you fell over that tree.” he playfully adds.
“i am too.” you agree as one of your hands come up to card through his braids.
“should i get you back to the village? they must be worried about you, it is dark.” his bright yellow eyes glance around the forest.
you finally realize that it really is pitch black, other than the bioluminescent foliage, and both of you are naked and exposed to the environment.
“i should, yeah. but i don’t want you to leave.” you mumble sheepishly, which makes the man grin arrogantly.
“maybe i’ll stick around for a while, yeah? see my family, my clan… and spend some more time with you.” his hand rubs patterns into your belly as it erupts with butterflies.
“that sounds like an amazing plan.” your face cannot contain the bright smile on your face.
“now, let’s get you dressed and i’ll call my ikran to take us home.” his hand pats the side of your thigh and stands up tall to find his loincloth.
man, what are the boys back at the lab going to say about you arriving back with the one and only neteyam sully?
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hattiestgal · 1 year ago
Note
If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3
JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR
So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-
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For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:
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But also a fat one too!
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And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)
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THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.
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THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!
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THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot
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THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!
A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!
Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this
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Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.
This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-
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Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not
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These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!
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Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!
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And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.
This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!
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witchywithwhiskey · 6 months ago
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Ari + 28. “take it like a good girl and stop whining” + 82. “you think your begging is going to change my mind?"
a fruitful afternoon in the strawberry field
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pairing: farmer husband!ari levinson x female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, breeding kink, piv sex, outdoor sex, creampie, no condoms, cockwarming, dry humping, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, little bit of bratting, light bdsm, begging, teasing, pet names (wildflower, honey), aftercare, fluff, established relationship
word count: 2,500ish
a/n: ahhh Eva it took me a little while to come up with a fic from these prompts, but i have a feeling you'll enjoy this one 😅 (at least i hope so!!) i'm pretty happy with how this turned out, and i especially love the concept of strawberry farmer ari levinson. i just love him so much and i hope everyone else does too!! ♡♡
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The spring sunshine was warm against your skin, the soft breeze caressing your face and the day seemed all the brighter because you were standing next to your husband, Ari Levinson, in an open field of growing strawberries. And he was looking particularly handsome on that spring afternoon. His brown hair glinted gold in the sun, his cheeks rosy with the heat, and when he looked at you, his blue eyes sparkled like the surface of the sea.
While your thoughts were wandering, Ari was bent down, checking on the growth of his strawberries, which were just beginning to turn from green to red as the warmth of spring deepened into the heat of summer. They would be ripe soon, and in just a few weeks, the fields would be swarming with people who came from all over to pick their own strawberries at Ari’s farm.
But on that spring afternoon, it was just you and Ari, the strawberry fields stretching out around you until they ended in the tree line that separated the farm from the wilderness beyond. You were alone, and your husband looked far too enticing kneeling in the dirt he’d sowed himself for you to pass up an opportunity to show him how much you adored him.
Which was how Ari ended up on his back between the rows of strawberries, your knees planted on either side of his hips and your bare pussy rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. Your sundress fluttered around your thighs as your hips rocked, your hands pressed flat against Ari’s stomach, your fingertips digging into the layer of softness that cushioned his muscles beneath.
“That’s it, wildflower, take what you need—rub that achy little cunt all over daddy’s bulge,” Ari rumbled, his big hands gripping your hips. Neither of you paid any mind to how he was rubbing dirt into the cotton of your sundress, making you just as dirty as him. “Does it feel good, honey?”
You mewled your response, tipping your head back so your face was turned toward the sun. It felt better than good. Ari’s bulge was thick and hard between your thighs, and your slit was already so wet and messy, it made the slide against his rough jeans feel deliciously wonderful. You felt like you could ride Ari’s bulge for hours and never get tired of it. 
But then Ari thrust his hips up from beneath you, bouncing you on his lap and your eyes flew open, finding your husband’s gaze as he stared up at you like a goddess made mortal. Your inner walls clenched around nothing and you whimpered, your arms trembling as your elbows gave out and you collapsed against your husband’s chest. Sizzling pleasure raced down your spine and through your nerves, making you shake and shudder.
“Need your cock, daddy,” you whined, your fingers grabbing fistfuls of Ari’s shirt as you clung to him, your hips still writhing as you stole as much pleasure from his bulge as you could manage. Lifting your head, you sought your husband’s gaze again, giving him your most pitiful pleading look. “Need you to fill me up, wanna feel your big cock stretch my little hole, daddy, please.” 
Ari brushed the backs of his fingers over your cheek and he gave you a regretful look. “Condoms are in the house, wildflower,” he said, his words a reminder that you were off your birth control. And if you’d thought about it harder, you’d have remembered it wasn’t a safe time of the month. 
But you weren’t thinking about the risks or what the two of you had previously discussed. You were thinking about Ari’s cock splitting you open and and his seed spilling deep in your cunt. You were thinking about your belly growing round and swollen with Ari’s baby. You were thinking about your husband breeding you. 
You wanted it so badly, it took your breath away—it was all you wanted. But it wasn’t what the two of you had decided. Still, you were so needy, you couldn’t stop yourself from begging your husband for his cock, even if he wouldn’t breed you. 
“I don’t care, daddy,” you whined, pushing yourself up until you were sitting on Ari’s lap again. His bulge was so hard and heavy between your thighs and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking harder on it. “I need you—I need you,” you cried, barely stopping yourself from begging him for a baby. Your voice was high and thin and pleading, and you held Ari’s gaze as you trailed your fingers down his chest, hooking them into the hem of his jeans. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you promised, giving him an innocent look.
Ari huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, but his mouth was curving into a grin like he couldn’t help himself when it came to you—and you knew he couldn’t. Ari knew you well enough to know what you really wanted, and you knew your husband well enough that you knew he was close to giving it to you.
“You’re gonna be good for me, huh, honey?” Ari rumbled, his grin spreading wider and his blue eyes sparkling up at you. “So, that means you won’t start begging me to put a baby in your belly when I’m balls deep in your sweet cunt?” Ari asked dryly, raising a playful eyebrow at you. 
Your core clenched at Ari’s words and you instinctively pressed down harder against his bulge, your pussy dripping onto his jeans and soaking the front of his pants. But you ignored your body’s response and nodded, an eager smile on your lips. You knew you were lying, and you knew Ari knew you were lying from the long look he gave you, but you both decided to play along anyway.
“Fine, fine,” Ari huffed, biting back a laugh that shook his chest. His hands gathered the skirt of your sundress and pushed it up until he could see your slick cunt rubbing idly against his bulge. You watched his eyes darken and his mouth curve into a hungry smirk. “Take daddy’s cock out, wildflower.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Your fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans for a moment before you managed to get it open. Then you pulled down his fly and reached inside to take his cock in your hands. He was thick and long and perfect and you smiled as you stroked him reverently. But you were too impatient to do more than that, pushing yourself up onto your knees to line yourself up with the tip. 
You were plenty wet, but Ari was so big and thick that it only took the head of his cock pushing into your tight hole for you to start whining. “Daddy, daddy, you’re so big,” you mewled, raising your hips and pressing down again, taking another inch of his hard cock inside you. 
“You begged for this, wildflower,” Ari said through gritted teeth, the muscle in his jaw popping as you sank your hot cunt down on his cock. “Take it like a good girl and stop whining.” 
His filthy words sent a shiver down your spine and a low moan slipped from your lips as you pushed down on his cock, taking him deeper. Your pussy ached at the stretch, but it was a delicious kind of pain and you wanted more of it. Lifting up, you slammed back down on Ari’s cock, taking him another couple of inches. 
“Oh god, daddy, it feels so good,” you cried on a gasp, fucking yourself on Ari’s cock as you took him deeper with each thrust. 
His hands gripped your hips, holding your dress up out of the way so he could watch you impale yourself on his cock. Otherwise, he laid still between your thighs, content to watch you do all the work, which only made you hotter. 
Your hands let go of his shirt and began playing with your tits, groping yourself through your dress. “Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, fucking yourself on his cock, taking him deeper with ever downward thrust. “Your big cock feels so good in my tight little pussy, daddy, just wanna ride your dick all day.”
“Don’t know how long ‘m gonna last, honey, you feel like heaven around me,” Ari murmured, his voice warm and thick as honey on a hot spring day. “So tight and warm and perfect—your perfect pussy wrapped around my dick.” He groaned when you sank down the final inch and your bodies were joined together to the root of his cock. 
You moaned and rocked your hips, feeling his cock shift deep inside you, the tip kissing your cervix and making you clench hard around him. You knew you’d promised to be good, but your need for your husband to breed you was too strong. 
“When you come, come inside me,” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop yourself.
Between one moment and the next, Ari’s eyes caught yours and he sat up, one of his hands wrapping around the back of your neck and holding you still on his lap while he half-heartedly glared at you. 
“I thought you were going to be a good girl for me, wildflower,” he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous in that way that made you shiver. Despite the growly tenor of his tone, you knew there was no anger in your husband, and you gave him a playful smile.
“We both know I was lying, daddy,” you said sweetly, innocently batting your lashes at your husband. You leaned in until your lips were ghosting over his, teasing him. “Besides, we both know you love it when I beg you to fuck a baby into me,” you whispered, confidence in your sultry tone. “You wanna plant your seed in me and watch my belly swell with the child we made together, don’t you daddy?”
Ari growled and captured your lips in a fierce kiss, showing you exactly how much he wanted what you described. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours. 
“We decided to wait until the summer to get pregnant, honey,” he rumbled, reminding you of the conversations you’d had when you weren’t drunk on his cock. But his free hand was urging your hips to rock on him, making it impossible for you to care about what you’d decided before.
You moaned helplessly, feeling Ari’s cock twitch and throb inside you, the tip rubbing against a spot that made you see stars. Pleasure was swirling through your body, your clit grinding against the base of him, and it was too much. You couldn’t have stopped the words from flowing from your mouth even if you’d wanted to.
“Knock me up, daddy, please, I wanna have your baby,” you begged desperately, uncaring of what you and Ari decided before you’d gone into the fields and sank down on his cock. “I can’t wait until the summer, I want you to put a baby in me now—breed me, please, daddy, daddy, please, please, please.”
Ari groaned as his hand tightened around the back of your neck. “You think your begging is going to change my mind?” he growled, pressing hard, suckling kisses to your neck, his beard rasping over your skin and his teeth nipping at your jaw. “You think your sweet pleading is going to make me forget what we decided?”
In one fluid movement, Ari flipped you onto your back, laying you down in the hay that covered the dirt between the rows of strawberries and he settled his hips between your thighs. His cock sank even deeper into your cunt and you moaned mindlessly, tossing your head back against the soft ground. Ari pushed your knees up toward your chest until you were bent in half in a mating press. His eyes, wild with hunger and desire, met yours, and his mouth twisted into a needy snarl.
“Because it did,” he growled and began fucking you hard and fast. 
His big cock bottoming out in your tight pussy made you scream in pleasure, your fingers diving into your husband’s soft hair. You clung to him while he rutted into you like a man possessed—like a man intent on breeding his wife.  
“We’re making a baby today, honey,” Ari promised, ducking down to capture your lips in a messy, brutal kiss. “I’m fucking you full of my seed right here in the strawberry field until you’re ripe and swollen with my child.” He trailed kisses down your cheek until his mouth was right next to your ear. “You’re going to make such a pretty mommy, wildflower.”
Your whole body clenched at Ari’s filthy words, and all you could do was chant, “yes, yes, yes, daddy, daddy, daddy,” as he pounded into you. Your pleasure built quickly, and it wasn’t long before you were mewling and moaning and writhing beneath Ari’s big body, only for him to pin you down more firmly and reach between your bodies to find your clit.
Ari rubbed your tight little button in harsh circles and you were helpless to the pleasure. You came with a shrill cry, your head tilted back, face turned toward the sun and the smell of earth and strawberries filling your senses. Your body clenched tight, your hands fisting in your husband’s hair as your pussy squeezed his cock. 
With a low groan, Ari followed you over the edge, mumbling, “Gonna make you a mommy, honey, can’t wait to see you round with my child—so pretty, so pretty—my pretty little wildflower.” He pressed deep inside you, and you felt his cock throb in your cunt, his seed spilling into your womb while he groaned his pleasure. 
Ari rocked into you, making you moan as he fucked his come deeper inside you, until you were both trembling with the overstimulation. Digging an arm beneath your back, Ari flipped you both over so he was laying on the ground and you were sprawled across his chest. His come leaked out around where his softening length was still lodged inside you, but neither of you could be bothered with trying to clean it up yet.
The spring sunshine was warm on your back and Ari was strong and sturdy beneath you, his heart beating against his ribcage under your cheek. You smiled to yourself and hoped that Ari’s seed would take. You couldn’t wait to have a child with him, even if it was a little earlier than you’d planned. 
Lifting your head, you caught your husband’s eye and were happy to see he looked just as content as you felt. Leaning up, you caught his lips in a kiss that said everything you needed to say—you loved him, you appreciated him, you couldn’t wait to grow your little family with him. And he returned your feelings in kind, kissing you back. 
The two of you stayed out under the spring sun longer than you’d originally intended when you’d tagged along with Ari to check on the progress of the crop. But it turned out to be a fruitful afternoon in the strawberry field—though it wouldn’t be until well after the strawberries had ripened and been picked that you learned just how successful your spring romp had been.
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