#eventually ending in some hot fucking

[goosologist]

[rouge-the-bat]

MAN. the dynamic of "just wants to be loved and desired and wanted" x "fantasizes about locking you up so i can have you all to myself forever" HOOOOO

[orcelito]

Ok triple vaccine is kicking my ass. Now. I am.now grateful that I scheduled it with a day off after

[inspector-montoya-fox]

hi how have you been?

[silverselfshippingchaos]

h.aar deserves sooo many kisses

[fingertipsmp3]

Things that happened in my sims game today that ✨just make sense✨

-My sim went on a date with his stalker

[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[shotmrmiller]

military issued wife but you didn't know that using the "dating app" your friend brought up once in idle talk would end with you in an office with a (signed) marriage license on the desk, actively not looking at your 'husband', the burly lummox with a skull mask who's dwarfing the chair he can barely fit in.

you'd thought it'd be like tinder. a potential dating site. as in messaging on the app, getting to know each other, exchanging personal numbers before going on a date. not marriage. not opening your front door expecting it to be your door dasher and instead it's him with a rucksack in one hand and duffel in the other.

he'd looked down his thick nose at you, grunted a quiet, "not bad", and pushed past as if you were a swinging door to a saloon. what the fuck had he been doing there? you'd only spoken a couple of times with him and left on read for the some of it. you'd chosen to move on, try to match with someone else but the app had stopped working (you couldn't swipe right or left anymore) so you'd just put it on the back burner. you had better things to worry about than another disappointment of a man then.

except now said disappointment of a overly large man is taking up most of the couch and his legs aren't even all that far apart. and he's at your house. the house you'd never sent him the address to. as a matter of fact, you'd received a text from an unknown number earlier that had said someone would be home in a few. you'd ignored it thinking it was a wrong number situation but now you're sure it was him. how he got your phone number is also a mystery.

you'd tried to argue. to threaten him with the cops. to get him out and away, far fucking away, but he'd only scooped you up and let you pelt his broad back with your fists. chuckled low in his throat while he smacked your arse to keep still. "i'd hate to drop m'wife."

whatever fight you had he ate right out of you with the heels of your feet digging into the large curve of his shoulders and his hands curled around the back of your thighs. maybe it's because it'd been a while but he'd played your body like an instrument and had you bucking your hips against his tongue, slick coating his face in minutes. (your cheeks burn furiously hot when you think back on what he'd said then. "tight little thing 'nd you've only taken my two fingers." it's flattering, sue you.)

he'd lapped at your sodden cunt until you had overstimulation clumping your lashes together, inner thighs tender from the bristles of his shorn hair and unshaven jaw, your palm on the crown of his head having both pulled him to you and pushed him away.

and then he'd wiped your release with the back of his hand, thumbed the swollen flesh of your bottom lip and rumbled that it's time for bed.

which eventually led to you being here. in front of a man he calls Price, a marriage certificate unlike any you've ever glanced upon, a large gloved hand curled snugly around your leg, fingers grazing a little too close to where he'd left aching and swollen just yesterday.

you're reading the terms and conditions of anything from here on forward. even the fine print.

and then soap comes around and plants a seed in his head of him planting a seed in you :/ at least you can tell your nosy ass aunt that at least you've got a man while she's on her 4th divorce on thanksgiving 💅🏼

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)

Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.

"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"

Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:

"Next time it's gonna cost ya."

When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.

Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.

"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."

Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.

"Don't you have dishes to put away?"

Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.

You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:

"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"

He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.

As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.

"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."

Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.

"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."

Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.

"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."

Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.

You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.

"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.

Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.

"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.

Compliments that boarder on harassment.

"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.

Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.

"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.

You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.

"Behind!"

Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.

"Yes, Chef."

He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?

You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.

Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.

"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."

He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.

"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"

They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.

"Need help getting that, bonnie?"

Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.

"Johnny?"

Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"

Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.

"Gonna cum Johnn-"

Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.

~

"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."

Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.

"G'night."

He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"

[dubiousculturalartifact]

do you ever think about how darcy's perspective of the visit to rosings is just... a completely wild time. so like. he and his favourite cousin goes to visit with his weird aunt, and ends up running into this hot girl, that he's really kinda increasingly into? she's staying in the area for a while with her bestie. so like. he was expecting a boring social obligation visit & getting pressure into marrying his other, less favourite cousin. instead, he watches the hot girl hold her own with his aunt in conversation. she banters with him over the pianoforte and they have a Moment™. he keeps going over to the house she's staying at, just to awkwardly chill there, even though he doesn't like the other people there. has a whole conversation with her about how she wouldn't mind living far away from family, as long as she could afford the travel. he extends his visit so he can keep seeing her. when he runs into her on a walk, she makes a point of detailing the exact route she prefers to take while out walking, clearly encouraging him to join her, so he does. he has a really nice time on these walks, they spend a lot of time in companionable silence, but he manages to flirt a little by implying some stuff about the future & what their married life could be like, and they have some conversations about that. and sure, she has some family baggage, but none of them are around so it's a lot easier to ignore, y'know? so eventually he just can't take it anymore, and he shoots his shot. she clearly values honesty so he explains his scruples as well, but he thinks she's been dropping some favourable signals, so he's got a good chance, right?

and then not only she turns him down she ROASTS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM. she insults him. she insults his honour as a gentleman. she flips the fuck out about... oh yeah crap the sister thing, turns out his cousin blabbed, and then I'M SORRY YOU SAID WHAT? ABOUT WICKHAM? THIS IS ABOUT FUCKING WICKHAM, MY FUCKING NEMESIS? HE FUCKING SAID WHAT ABOUT.... OH MY GOD. oh fuck. I've fucked up so badly I need to reevaluate my entire life & risk sending a letter to an unmarried woman who hates my guts, just so i can explain shit. fuck.

[bettymylove]

READER MAKING OUT HARDCORE WITH THEODORES ABS AND SHE PRACTICALLY CRIES SHES SO HORNY AND THEYRE SO PRETTY SO SHE EVENTUALLY GETS OFFF ON HIS ABS?!

needy

pairing: theodore nott x reader

content: pure smut, 18+

your hazy state and the fact that theo was just out of the shower were the two things you had decided to blame for your behavior.

you had been painfully horny all day long, so much that it hurt to walk and the only solution you were aware of for your problem was theodore nott also known as your boyfriend.

you had reached his dorm when he was still in the shower, and like the good girl you were you waited for him on his bed not once trying to touch yourself.

theo emerged from the shower with wet hair and water dripping down his body until it reached his very loosely hung grey towel which you were sure was the only piece of clothing he was wearing.

however, your attention was taken up by something else, his abs were the only thing you could focus on.

"baby, what are you doing here? I thought you were busy today" you broke out of your trance after hearing his low and husky voice.

having no patience left, you took long strides towards him and clawed on his chest so that he would angle his face towards yours.

both of your lips met in a fiery kiss, and you detached your arms from around his neck to his shoulders slightly pushing him back so that he would land on the bed with you on top of him.

your kisses started trailing downwards, sucking on his neck long enough to leave a mark.

you had untied his towel and his cock sprung out in response, your kisses finally reached his abs the place you adored the most.

licking all over his abdomen, while sneaking some licks to his dick, you moaned after you heard him groan.

if you thought you were horny before, it was nothing compared to what you were feeling now after theo forcefully put his dick in your mouth to cum in it.

you had started humping the floor out of desperation,you needed the friction,you needed the release.

"are you really such a needy whore, that you have started getting yourself off on the floor?" you only moaned out a breathy moan in response.

you finally had the courage to stand up on your wobbly knees and push theo back down on the bed again.

carefully positioning yourself on top of his abs,you started to move back and forth the friction going directly to your clit.

theo made an animalistic sound at this, "fuck baby, you really love my abs that much, huh?" he was fully smirking seeing you in this form.

"love it teddy" you responded, biting your lip.

"do you fuck your pillow like this, thinking it's my abs?" you blushed at being caught, and only nodded in response.

"you're close aren't you baby, you're gonna cum in your panties like a whore?" he had started helping you fasten your pace so that your could reach your high.

"m'your whore teddy" you managed to make out, and just as you did you reached your orgasm, it was so stretched out that you were shaking by the end of it.

"fuck that was so hot, now don't you think my dick needs a little riding too?" he asked cheekily and you were more than happy to oblige.

[fallingformatt]

SEXUAL TENSION M.S.

bsf!Matt x fem!reader

summary: the sexual tension between you and your best friend Matt causes you two to ‘talk it out’ in the car

based on these requests available: here, here

warnings: filthy ass smut bro

word count: 3.2k

a/n: I’ve been so busy with work, but im glad i finally found the time to write something hope yall enjoy it :) this post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

"Wait do you like him?" my friend asks with a smirk on her lips as she playfully pushes my shoulder.

I was hanging out with my friend at the beach tanning, eating some grapes, swimming and just taking in the sun.

"I don't know, it's like this weird sexual tension between us like I just feel that hot and bothered vibe coming from him," I say to my friend as I twirl a strand of my hair between my fingers.

"As in general or like just around you?" She asks me while raising an eyebrow. "Girl I don't know, we don't talk about how often we get laid," I say with a serious tone. "You should then," she answers as one corner of her lips rises up followed by a wink. "Can we not? I'm not asking Matt if he wants to fuck me or just fuck in general, let's change the subject," I say now slightly annoyed about how long this topic has dragged on.

I have to admit though, in the past couple of weeks there have been moments of strong sexual tension between me and my best friend Matt. I don't know what it is but every time we hang out in a group setting, I feel him throwing glances at me while fidgeting with his rings practically undressing me with his eyes, his eyes seem to scan me up and down, eventually meeting mine every time, his stare would get this hint of hunger like he's been starving for something, so I went for advice to my friend but she doesn't have a serious bone in her body so it obviously didn't go far.

Not even a second later I heard my phone ring. I turn it facing up to look who's calling. My friend leans in pushing up her sunglasses to see the caller as well. "Oh it's Matt, you should ask him if he's down to fuck," she says with a huge smile plastered across her face. "You're so funny," I say sarcastically as I roll my eyes before answering the phone.

"Hey!" I say as I bring up the phone to my ear.

"Hey, what are you up to?" Matt asks.

"Nothing much, I'm at the beach with a friend," I say as I turn my head to look at her, as soon as I do so, I see her standing on her knees humping the air before she points to my phone laughing. I instantly facepalm regretting that I even mentioned something to her.

"Hello, are you there?" I hear on the phone.

I snap back as I remember that I'm currently on the phone with Matt.

"Yeah sorry, what did you say," I say.

"I asked if the weather is nice, am I really that boring?" Matt says.

"No I was just looking at my friend, she was kicking down someone's sand castle," I lie as I search around with my free hand for something to throw at my friend. "Yeah the weather is nice, the water is really warm too, what are you doing?" I continue.

"I'm driving home, do you want to do something later?" Matt asks and I see my friend walking over to me kneeling next to me pressing her ear against my phone trying to hear what Matt is saying.

"Yeah I'm down, do you have something in mind?" I answer as I try to push my friend away with my elbow staring at her and shaking my head.

"Chris and Nick really want to see you, so I was thinking we could go to topgolf, and get something to eat after that," he offers.

I see my friend nodding her head up and down signaling me to say yes. How did she even hear that is beyond me.

"Yeah I'm down, should be fun," I say.

"Alright I'll pick you up at 7, see you then," he says before ending the call

I look down next to me and see one grape lying in the sand, without giving it a second thought, I pick it up and throw it at my friend. "You're such a child," I say as I roll my eyes smiling. "You still love me," she says sitting down smiling, finally relaxing after being on my case this whole time.

The sun had started to set and we decided to head back to my friend's house. The beach is like a 10 minute walk from her place. "What time is he picking you up?" My friend asks me.

"He's picking me up at 7, but it's not like you didn't know that already, you're so nosy," I say as I look down at my phone to see the time. "Shit it's 6:27 pm already, there's no way I'm gonna get back to my house and get ready in time.

"You can just get ready at my place," she offers. I nod and pull out my phone from my pocket and text Matt the new address.

We go into her house and I drop my bag at the door running for the bathroom to shower. I turn on the water and hop in.

"Are you really that excited to see him?" my friend asks as she opens the door to the bathroom. "What do you mean?" I ask her. "I mean you rushed to take a shower so fast, surely you're excited to meet up with him," she says as I hear her turning on the sink to wash her hands. "I'm literally just showering, I don't want to be sweaty, covered in sand, and gross, no matter who I'm meeting up with," I defend myself. "Whatever you say," my friend says as she leaves the bathroom.

I hopped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I went past the kitchen to my friend's room. I open the door and she's sitting in front of her vanity doing her skincare playing some music in the background.

My eyes lay upon an outfit lying down on her bed, it's a short jean skirt and a black lace tank top, I raise my eyebrow in confusion "What's this?" I ask. "It's an outfit for you to wear," she answers, I tilt my head. "Well unless you're gonna go to topgolf in sweats and a bathing suit, you should wear what's on the bed," she exclaims. "But this is what I would wear if we went clubbing not something I would wear hanging out with friends," I answer. "Trust me on this one," my friend replies. "You seriously need to move on," I say as I grab the outfit and put it on.

I check my phone to see the time, 7:05 pm it reads and as I was about to put down my phone I receive a text from Matt.

"I'm here" that's all the text says.

"I have to go," I say to my friend as I stand up from her vanity and head for the door. "Wait, just one more thing," she says as she runs over to me with a perfume bottle and sprays a few sprays on me. "What's that?" I ask. "It's a pheromone perfume, it's supposed to make guys crazy," she says, smiling proudly holding the bottle. I just sigh as I go for the door. "This way we'll find out if he wants to fuck in general or if he wants to fuck you!" my friend says happily, waving at me as I exit.

I get in the front seat as I see that Chris is sitting at the back. "Hey," Nick exclaims. "Hey," I say to everyone as I put on my seatbelt. "You look good," Matt says as he turns his head looking me up and down and Nick nods his head in agreement. "Thanks, guys," I say and we start driving. We're now driving for about 15 minutes, there's music blasting through the whole car as Nick and Chris are arguing, trying to scream over the loud music about which is the best spongebob episode making me giggle from time to time.

We're stopped at a red light and as I'm scrolling through my phone I feel someone's eyes on me, I pick up my head and see Matt looking at me, there it is again, that hungry stare, he's looking me up and down before his eyes again meet mine. I see him bite his lower lip before a little smirk creeps up on his lips. "You look so fucking good," he says, making me smile, his voice was deeper than usual. He turns his head to focus on the road again as the light turns green.

This is the vibe I was talking about with my friend earlier, we've never had this kind of tension between us before.

I turned my head back to see if Chris and Nick noticed his comment, and no they were still arguing, but the topic of the argument had changed to waffles and pancakes.

"We're here," Matt says as the car stops and he pulls out the keys from the engine and we all exit the car. As we go in, Nick goes to registration and pays for all of us. We all walk to our playing area and we all get something to snack on and some drinks.

"I'm up first," Matt says as he walks over to the playing area, he sets up the ball and swings the golf club. Next up is Nick, he does the same, now it's my turn, I walk up to the playing area, set up the ball, and take a swing with my golf club, I miss completely and I turn my head to look at everyone laughing, well almost everyone, Matt is the only one who's not laughing, which made me less embarrassed, I guess that's what best friends are for. "You need any help?" He asks, I nod my head and he stands up walking over to me.

I set myself up to take a shot and Matt walks over standing behind me, he puts his hands over mine "You have to hold the club tightly, okay?" Matt says as he tightens his grip around my hands. "Keep your back straight," he says and I straighten my back, which causes my butt to brush against his crotch. He inhales sharply before he continues, "Now swing," he says as he guides my hands with his swinging them to the side before hitting the golf ball and watching it fly away. I turn around to face Matt, "thank you," I say as I give him a hug. Before I get to pull away I feel his arm around the back of my neck as he leans into my ear, "you did so good," he says as he lets me go a slight grin forming on his lips, we walk back to the lounge area and Chris stands up as it is his turn now.

I was now sitting watching them play as I understood pretty quickly that there wasn't gonna be a golfer made out of me. Throughout the night I kept noticing Matt's glances, he's now sitting across from me, and he's staring me up and down as he's fidgeting with his rings. His gaze sends shivers down my spine, making me actually shiver and Nick notices.

"Are you cold? I left a sweater in the car, Matt can get it," he offers, " yeah that would be nice," I say as I look back at Matt and he seems to snap back into reality not really understanding what's going on.

"Come on Matt, I'm gonna go with you to get the sweater," I say to help him understand what's going on, he nods and stands up and we start walking to the car. I was actually glad that I managed to get him alone, I needed to understand what was going on with him, but I didn't want to ask with everyone around.

As we get to the car he unlocks it and I get into the front passenger seat and lean back to get the sweater Nick was talking about, as I grab the sweater I hear the door open, I turn my head to look and I see Matt leaning down, his arm resting against the open door. "You ready?" He asks. "No get in," I say as I lean back into my seat, placing the sweater in my lap. Matt gets in the car and closes the door. "What's up?" He asks. "I should be asking you that," I answer and Matt tilts his head confused by my statement.

"What's going on with you?" I ask. "What do you mean?" He answers me with a question not understanding what I'm talking about. I take a deep breath slightly nervous about what I'm going to say next, but I needed some clarity so I knew I had to ask. "Past couple of weeks you have been zoning out, staring at me," I state, I watch his face, waiting for his reaction. His expression grows dark, and once again his glare turns dark.

"You're driving me fucking insane, " he says his voice getting deeper again, "you don't know what you're doing to me, your sent, your presence," he says as he moves his stare from my eyes to my lips before licking his. "Tell me," I say as I put my arm on his bicep. "How about I show you instead," he says as a smirk appears on his lips. He leans over and grabs the outer side of my thigh, signaling me to move. I cautiously move over the center console his arms grabbing and holding my ass for support as he guides me to sit in his lap.

Without any warning he pushes his lips onto mine, kissing me roughly. One of my hands travel to his hair and the other one rests on his chest, his hands travel to my hips, pushing and guiding them back and forth, I let out a quiet moan as I break the kiss, "Matt this is wrong," I say as I try to calm down my breathing. "I don't care, I want you," he says as he smashes his lips back onto mine and I give into the kiss, he moves from my lips to my cheek and down to my jawline, his one hand still guiding my hips back and forth as the other hand moves over my ass grabbing it and slapping it.

I'm not fighting him and give into his touch fully, I throw my head back as I feel my panties getting wet and a moan slips past my lips, Matt takes advantage and attacks my neck, leaving wet kisses, slipping in a few bites as he's sucking on my sensitive skin leaving marks.

"Move up," he says, his voice is demanding. I move my ass up, both of my hands move to his shoulders as I hold them for support. He quickly unbuckles his belt and bucks up his hips sliding his jeans down along with his boxers. Matt's hand travels to my panties, he rubs against my clothed clit before sliding them to the side with one quick motion. He places his hands on my waist pushing me down and signaling me to sit down again.

He pushes his lips on my neck leaving sweet kisses around the dark marks he had created, he leans back and his eyes lock onto the hickeys, "pretty," he says as he grabs my jaw, his thumb brushing over the bruised, sensitive skin.

Matt grabs my ass as he moves me slightly up, positioning his dick against my entrance before pushing me down, I let my head fall on the nape of his neck as my elbows rest on his shoulders, my hands roaming his hair, I let out a moan as I start to move my hips.

"You feel so good princess," Matt groans, his hand tightly around my waist as the other one holds a tight grasp on my ass, his nails digging into my skin as I become a hot mess on top of him. "Matt," I moan out, my movements are sloppy and sensual.

"We can't be gone for too long," Matt whispers in my ear and suddenly fastens his thrusts underneath me. A sudden feeling of overbearing pleasure comes over me as I throw my head back no longer able to control my breath, moans and whimpers leave my mouth before I bite my lower lip trying to be quiet. "Baby don't be quiet, I'll make you scream my name," Matt growls deeply as his hand travels to my lower back holding me for support.

"Will you?" I manage to slip out between my moans as I start to grind faster on his cock. "You're such a brat," he says as his hand wraps around my hair pulling my head backward. His lips attack my collarbone, he's sucking and pulling on my skin slipping in a few bites, I hiss at the pain, "not so brave anymore huh," he says as he detaches from my collarbone before leaving a trail of kisses up my neck before meeting my lips.

"I'm," I whimper, my hands roaming around for something to hold onto as I feel my climax approach me. "You're?" Matt asks proudly as he's the one making me unable to finish my sentence. "Close," I manage to moan out between his hard thrusts and my grinding as we move in sync. "What was that huh?" He chuckles. I grab the collar of his shirt to pull myself together as I gather my strength to form a sentence.

"I'm so close Matt don't stop," I blur out, I feel my walls closing around his twitching cock. "You take my dick so well baby," Matt moans out sending me over the edge. "Matt," I scream out as my orgasm takes over me. Matt lets out a low growl-like moan, as I feel his seed pumping into me. I push my lips against his in order not to scream as I ride out my high.

"Oh my god Matt," I say as I move off of his cock and back to the seat next to him. "You did so good princess," he says as he leans in and kisses my forehead before he pulls up his pants. "We should get back," Matt says and I nod in agreement. I take Nick's sweater and pull it over my head putting it on.

As we step out of the car, I close the door and fix my short denim skirt and I see Matt fixing his belt. "I'm gonna leave the window slightly open," he says slightly chuckling pointing to the windows that had fully fogged up and I let out a small laugh as well.

"What took you two so long," Nick says as he looks at us and we try not to look suspicious. "We were talking," I say confidently, I see Nick shifting his eyes from Matt to me, and his eyes fall down to my neck as a smirk appears on his lips, "you got something here," Nick says as he brushes over his own neck with two fingers. My eyes immediately shoot to Matt as I slap his shoulder from the back.

I guess there definitely was some sexual tension between us that needed to be resolved.

[saintobio]

the biker's book club, feat. l&ds sylus.

pairings. sylus, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, biker au, 18+ tags. petnames (kitten), unprotected sex, spitting, hair-pulling, consensual filming, creampie, dirty talk, possessiveness, violence, slight yandere themes, impregnation notes. ik he’s probably into cafe racers but the sportbike enthusiast in me thinks biker!sylus is the m*tthew w*ods of l&ds, booktok/biketok girlies iykyk

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who collects liter bikes like they’re toys; he’d usually get rid of them as soon as he gets bored, but his current favs are his black & red edition fireblade, m1000rr, and superleggera v4.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who got famous on booktok overnight after posting a video of him riding his bike through the tunnel with a half-buttoned shirt. the view offered a peek on his toned chest and abs, leaving the rest to an innocent girl’s imagination. the comments on that post are wild, and the views went up to 2 mil in a day.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who broke numerous girls’ hearts literally a day after that post, revealing that he already has a backpack (you) and that his sunset and midnight rides are exclusively booked for his girlfriend.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who eventually taught you how to ride your own bike, gifting you a white N400 on your birthday—a bike he calls “too slow” for him, but is actually fast enough for a beginner like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who once chased a car for nearly rear-ending you on a red-light. as soon as he saw how the car almost hit you from behind, the loud and chilling roar of his bike bolted you in surprise as he accelerated to chase after the car, breaking the asshole’s side mirror, and teaching him a ‘lesson���.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who always keeps a possessive eye on you, always riding within his acceptable distance because the last time he allowed you to ride ahead of him, some guy on a Ford 150 tried to ask for your number, calling you a hot biker girl he hopes to have a ‘good time’ with. that didn’t end well for the poor guy, because the interaction was cut short when sylus revved his bike, lane splitting between you and the car, and running over the guy’s outstretched arm along the way. he might’ve broken a bone or two, who knows?

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who owns a springfield .45 gun, and claims he has no problems shooting another guy’s head if they dared touch even a single strand of your hair. he’s a very territorial individual and would not think twice on committing a crime if it meant protecting what’s his.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who’s hated by his neighbors, both because of how loud his bike gets in the morning, and how loud his girl can get during the evening. he doesn’t care though, because the sound of your moans were actually music to his hears. he swears he has to hear them every night or he won’t be able to sleep well.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who gets very kissy and touchy whenever you two arrive at home, unable to keep his hands to himself while you’re still parking your bike beside his. his lips would go straight to your neck, placing feathered kisses on your skin, tickling you with his warm breath as he tells you, “you know you’re mine, right?” of course you’d say you’re his. and he always follows up with a reminder, “good, because i’d kill any son of a bitch who tries to steal you from me.”

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who loves to fuck you raw, rough, and fast. he always had you gripping on the sheets, or scratching his back, or screaming out his name in a salacious escape to release your earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm. he always had your legs shaking, your body twitching, your breasts bouncing with each slam as he doesn’t stop pounding into you even after you came. he adores the sight of your beautiful, begging face each time he buries his hardened cock inside of your sweet, sweet pussy. “my kitten’s being too needy, huh?” he’d whisper to your ear before meeting your hips with another satisfying thrust. “always a slut for me.”

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who likes to spit on your mouth, pull your hair, and slap your bum. they’re some of his many kinks, and he can get nastier if he wants to, but he’d often say he’d rather save the best on your wedding night.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who enjoys filming your extremely erotic moments together, claiming that he needed to revisit those videos for when he misses you. his favorite content seems to be when he’s cumming inside of you, shooting every drop of his thick seed straight through your womb. kitten, you’re so tight, he’d think to himself. he goes even crazier for the view whenever he pulls out and sees his own semen dripping out of your swollen entrance.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who makes you breakfast the next morning after a long, passionate night. he always seems to cook the perfect pancakes, like he had specifically mastered the skill after you told him that pancakes were your favorite choice for breakfast.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who proudly displays you on social media, and bluntly rejects every girl who’d leave thirsty comments on his posts. he gets a little too sassy for their liking, but he doesn’t really give a damn about hurting another girl’s feelings if it were to protect yours.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who lets you ‘break’ his masculine ego by allowing you to paint his nails, give him skin care, or place cute, tiny, heart-shaped clips all over his hair whenever you were in the mood to. he’d just stare at you the whole time, amused at how you’d treat him like your own ken doll.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus whose immediate response when you told him you’re pregnant was “do you think it’s a baby girl?” there was no ounce of surprise in his eyes, no scintilla of worry at the thought of being an unexpected father, clearly, because he should already see it coming especially with how sexually active you two are. he really wants a baby girl, too. and a boy next. so while you were nearly horrified at seeing your positive pregnancy test thinking he’d ask you to terminate it, his calm and loving reaction to your unexpected baby was what made you realize that there was nothing else you could ever want in a man.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who, on the very next day, asked you to try and test start your bike because he thinks something’s ‘wrong’ with it. you hurried to check your bike, of course. little did you know, the keychain strapped onto your key had been replaced, now with a new, embroidered keychain bearing the words, “marry me?”

[lady-lauren]

❥ SATORU GOJO X SUGURU GETO X NANAMI KENTO X TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 4.7k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: fivesome gangbang, some (okay, um, a lot) of m/m action, ass play, ass fucking, vaginal fucking, double penetration, throat fucking, hair pulling, snowballing (cum + mouth + spitting in another mouth), creampie, excessive cum in all your holes, cum swallowing, spitting (it's Toji, he spits on someone's cock, don't ask questions), praise, use of "good girl", some degradation, they're all nasty fuckers, Toji does show up eventually I promise he's just ~late~

~Happy Halloween~ let's go out with a bang

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

This is not what you signed up for.

Satoru opens your thighs in his lap, long fingers spreading your pussy wide. A smirk kisses the back of your throat as you shiver, flushing so unbearably hot as Suguru’s dark gaze smolders at the sight of your drooling cunt. 

Suguru’s mouth fastens over your pussy and you arch in Satoru’s hold, whining with every wicked flick and suck of his warm tongue. Your arms tangle back around Satoru’s neck, nails scratching down his skin, knotting in snowy hair already melting with sweat. 

“Be a good boy and make her cum, Sugu. I want our girl nice and loose when we fuck her.”

This isn’t—you never imagined this is where you’d end up, in Satoru Gojo’s bed, an electric hum from the frat party below thumping through the walls, pounding the floor. 

When you signed the form to have an upperclassman mentor, you pictured a few lackluster coffee meetups and texts about class schedules. Something more…casual, cursory, trivial. 

Only Satoru Gojo is none of the above.

Day one he sunk his fingers into you, charming and carefree, with a pride only the most popular name on campus can muster. The whole year has been a blur of gentle loopings of his string around you until you trusted him. And you do, especially as his strong fingers press into your rib cage to keep you from squirming away from Suguru’s mouth.

Every walk to class with his arm around your shoulder, every late night text with just a little too much innuendo, every party with his fingers toying just a little close to the edge of your skirt. It’s all been building to this. 

“Told ya I had the best end of year present~,” Satoru sing-songs in your ear. 

Neon lights pulsate purple, long black hair catching and reflecting every strobe as Suguru leans in deeper, muscular shoulders rolling as he presses his nose to your clit. He groans in some sick mixture of pleasure and annoyance at Satoru.

“Whose name is she going to scream out? Yours or mine?” The man between your legs is toying with fire.

“Or mine?” 

Your heart kickstarts in your chest at the new voice ringing in your ears, baritone and slicing through the heady room. 

“Ah, Nanami! Didn’t expect you to respond to the group text.” 

Satoru’s voice is still so playful, like he doesn’t have you open and vulnerable and trembling in his lap. You cling on to him tighter, jumping and gasping as Suguru slides his tongue over your swollen clit. 

“Well,” Nanami looks directly at you, through you, shutting the door behind him, “this year your little pet is especially pretty.”

Being Satoru’s fledgling meant Suguru was always around—you know him, feel only the normal amount of embarrassment as he pushes his tongue into your cunt—but Nanami? He’s barely acknowledged your presence until now.

Nanami shrugs his button-down shirt over his arms, stalking the few paces to where you’re being held open and eaten. He reaches down and digs his strong fingers into Suguru’s hair, holding his slick mouth against your cunt. 

“Ride his face and make a mess of him.” 

Your hips roll before you can even think to stop them, lashes fluttering as you listen and start to grind against Suguru’s face. You can feel his smirk as his arms slip between your thighs and Satoru’s, jerking until you’re sliding farther down damp sheets. 

Suguru locks his arms around your legs, blunt fingernails digging into your thighs. He sucks on your clit until you’re whining and cooing, all the while being shoved deeper into your pussy by the consistent tug from Nanami.

“Atta girl, you like his mouth, yeah?” Satoru pats your cheek. 

“Ah, y-yeah, f-feels so good, fuck.” 

His hot tongue dips deeper in your folds, tip prodding your fluttering hole. He slips in for just a moment, grinning as he teases and pulls back out to smooth the wide flat of his tongue against your clit again.

“Oh Sugu, fuck, please, oh god, in me, put your t-tongue back in me.”

“Are you gonna deny our girl? She’s practically shaking.” 

Satoru lets your head fall to the mattress between his thighs, fisting his cock just above your eye line. The pump of his hand is lewd, already wet from the pre leaking down his slit from watching Suguru eat you out.

Nanami takes one of your tits in hand, fingers mean against your nipple like they are in Suguru’s hair. He rolls the bud between thumb and forefinger, making you gasp and arch into his palm.

“Sensitive,” he grunts. “Did that make her wet, Geto?”

“Oh fuccckk, I…” 

“That’s right, be a good girl.” Suguru’s voice vibrates down your pussy and you’d scream if it weren’t for Nanami’s fingers slipping between your parted lips. He teases them around your tongue, dragging them out so he can use your spit to swirl around your puffy nipple. 

“Oh fuck, oh god, like that, ‘s good,” you writhe on the bed, your legs squeezing around Suguru’s cheeks.

Your eyes blink open and your vision is filled with Satoru’s long cock, pretty and angry and throbbing in the color-changing lights. 

Your body trembles as you come undone, tongue lolling from your mouth like you’re dying to taste Satoru. It’s a fast, painful kind of pleasure, like Suguru sucked it from your core only to swallow it for himself.  

He watches the aftershocks of pleasure racing across your skin like a cat not yet done with his meal, your legs still shivering as you pant and try to catch your breath.

Suguru sits to his knees, shaking Nanami’s hold away with a slight sneer. He’s tempted to wipe his messy mouth with the back of his hand, but thinks better of it when he catches Satoru’s hungry gaze. He leans forward, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss onto Toru’s lips, letting him taste you. They both groan, Satoru pulling away only to trace his tongue around Suguru’s lips, licking at his ruined cheeks.

“Stop doing that before I get jealous,” you pur from below them, tugging at the long hair that brushes Suguru’s back so he will bring his lips to yours.

“Jealous?” he mumbles into your mouth, “I just had your pussy in my mouth and you already miss me?”

You grasp his messy jaw in your hand, fingers mean, bruising. It’s rougher than he expects.

“Toru said this is my present.”

“Sure is, sweetheart,” your head jerks to where Nanami stands next to the bed, fisting his naked cock, “now let’s get something else inside you, hm?” 

“You know the rules. I get her pussy first.” 

Bodies reposition like this is a dance with familiar steps. Satoru settles below you, smearing his cock through your sloppy folds and grinning when you tremble from how sensitive your clit is already.

“God you’re fucking soaked. Good job, Sugu.”

All three pairs of eyes are too excited to watch as you sink down on Satoru’s cock, pussy lips bulging at the stretch of him. You suck in his dick inch by inch, time turned to slush, head thrown back and lips parting. 

Suguru’s hands are eager, gripping your hips from behind so he can slam you down onto his best friend’s cock.

“Fuck that’s so good, fuck, Toru!” 

Nanami’s hand is suffocating his cock, standing still, patient, watching you get used to the bounce of Satoru’s hips.

Suguru runs his nose up the back of your neck, groaning as he paws at your tits, tweaking both nipples until you hiss. He flicks a nipple quickly with his middle finger, smarting your skin. Then he licks a hot stripe up your throat, the length of his hair falling over your shoulder.

Your head lulls back against his chest, “I th-thought you’d be nice to me, Sugu.” 

“I am the nice one, princess. Just wait.”

You look absolutely stuffed, belly nearly bulging from Satoru’s thick, intrusive cock making a home inside you. 

Nanami brushes his fingers over your face, cupping your cheek to cull your attention away from Suguru.

“So pretty. You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?”

Grabbing his wrist, you move his strong hand on your face closer to your mouth, wet lips closing around his thumb. You suck hard, mischief gleaming in your eyes as you watch his normally stoic mouth open at the feeling. You repeat the action, licking at the digits and moving his fingers in and out of your mouth. You release his fingers when Satoru pushes his cockhead into a particularly soft spot of your walls, making you gasp.

“I’m a very good girl.”

“Oh yeah?” You hear Satoru’s unmistakable, demeaning laugh from below. “Put his cock in your mouth, suck him ‘til he cums.” 

Suguru’s hand splays across your spine and pushes you down, smashing your body to Satoru’s and lining your face with Nanami’s cock. The new angle of Toru’s dick in your guts makes you mewl, hips rolling and begging. 

You shift your weight, balancing one hand on the bed so the other can wrap around Nanami’s cock, silken and hot and pounding in your little palm. Satoru has the perfect view below as you spit onto the cock in your hand, tracing your tongue along the vein lines. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna be messy, aren’t ya?” Icey eyes shine before winking up at you, one of Satoru’s hands wiping away a stray drop of spit on his forehead. 

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Nanami grunts and shoves his fingers into your hair, making you look up the muscular planes of his body to his face, “focus on me.”

You obey, lips sucking at his swollen head before taking the rest of him slowly. Nanami groans as he watches you, ass in the air, cock in your cunt, pretty eyes not leaving his as you slide him to the back of your throat and swallow.

Suguru smears lube onto your ass as you get to work, grinding down into Satoru and sucking Nanami. He thumbs your tight, puckered hole and you moan low and deep around the cock in your mouth. The vibrations tingle down Nanami’s spine and make him jerk your hair, shoving you into the blonde curls at the base of his cock until you gag around his length. 

Satoru swirls his thumb against your clit to make your brain think about him again, about the way he’s thrumming into your hole, stretching you so wide you barely notice when Suguru’s thumb dips into your ass. 

There’s nothing you can do but let them work your body, every part of you pulsing and throbbing with this hot, wormy need to be filled and fucked. 

“Fuck her cunt’s so tight, gonna b-bust,” Satoru moves quicker, making you break the rhythm you’ve built sucking cock. You pull back to breathe, tongue flattening on the underside of Nanami’s dick. 

“So early, Toru,” Suguru tuts, “I’m not even in her ass yet.” Two fingers now scissor into your tight hole as lube drips down to where Satoru’s balls are slapping into your ass cheeks.

Nanami keeps you distracted, roughly shoving his cock back between your lips once you have enough breath in your lungs. You bob your head, keeping him moist and slick between hollowing cheeks. His impressive thickness has saliva dripping down your cheeks and falling into Satoru’s hair.

Suddenly, your clit is pinched between Satoru’s cruel fingers, with no pleasurable intent beyond his own. You scream and the opening has Nanami pushing his cock halfway down your throat. 

“Oh that’s it baby, get tight, milk me, fucking god.” 

“Satoru,” Suguru bites in annoyance, “fucking hold it in until—”

“I can’t, been dreaming of fucking this little cunt. Can’t wait, fucking can’t, she’s too soft and wet and—” 

You’re not sure who cums first, you from the blistering force of Toru’s thumb on your clit, or him from the way your pussy convulses and sucks around his shaft. Not that it matters, you’re both whining. 

Your tongue goes slack against Nanami’s cock as you feel the thump thump of ropes of cum unloading into your hole. Bliss makes you numb, makes you dumb, easier for Nanami to control and for Suguru to play with. 

“Don’t swallow.” Nanami’s groan is the only warning you get. His powerful hips go still, cock pumping, before a grunt precedes the salty burst of his release coating your tongue. 

Of course you listen to him. There’s barely any will left you beyond to fuck and be fucked. 

Only you’re not prepared for Nanami slipping his cock from your mouth and tilting your chin up, making you stare into the rapacity of hazel eyes. 

“Now give it to Satoru.”

Your heart knocks in your chest, heat fissuring down your spine as if you’re worried about getting in trouble. You stare at Nanami with wide eyes, having to forcibly stop yourself from swallowing in shock.

Satoru gives you a lopsided, fucked out grin as you look down to face him, his hand reaching up to brush hair from your face. He kisses you before you overthink it, forcing his tongue into your mouth until spit and cum spill from the edges of your lips. 

You’ve thought about kissing him before. Too many times, really, and never once did you picture it sloppy and tangy with Kento Nanami’s cum swishing from your mouth to Satoru’s. He groans at the taste and you moan as he shifts his hips below you, cock still hard and raging. 

“Well isn’t this just disgusting.”

That voice is new. Taunting. 

You look at the cracked door, your swollen, cum stain lips parting at who fills the gap.

“Fushiguro,” Suguru clicks his tongue against his teeth, “you’re late.”

“Surprised I’m still invited since I broke the last one.”

Toji Fushiguro is nearly a myth, a revenant that you’ve only seen shadows of in the dark corners of parties. Yet here he is, arms crossed across his shirtless chest, a dark gray spot already leaking through his sweats at the sight of you sandwiched between three sweaty men. 

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare?” you ask, unsure where your audacity came from.

The smirk he gives you is sinister, the door slamming as he fists his cock through his pants, “Make room for me.”

Nanami pulls you up and off Satoru’s cock. He keeps your wobbly legs steady as bodies move around you, one of his big hands smoothing down your back as if to reassure you. Not that you need it, the headspace of sex is still engulfing you, like a haze all around the room. 

“I want her ass.” Toji’s knees sink into the mattress. 

“She’s prepped,” Nanami grins, hand reaching down, pawing at your ass, before he slides one of his big fingers into your asshole. You groan at the stretch, a filling pleasure shooting down to your toes. 

Toji snatches you in his arms, his strength allowing him to tug you around like a little rag doll. His mouth seals over yours with a primal groan, settling you into his lap so his cock can twitch against the softness of your belly. You moan and let him have you, calloused hands groping your sore tits.

“Taste good,” he licks against your lips, “pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Toru outdid himself this time.” 

He grabs your hand in his, forcing your fingers to wrap around the width of his cock. He helps you pump the shaft, thick neck tilting back when your thumb presses right under his mushroom head and you squeeze along his veins. 

“Suppose you need another one of these in your pussy too, hm?” 

The thought of being completely filled makes you leak, slick sticking to your thighs. 

Your eyes flicker over your shoulder. Three men are waiting, naked, ready to fill whichever hole you want. 

You reach first for Suguru. 

“Oh, oh, don’t tell me he’s your favorite?” Toji’s laugh rumbles your whole body in his hold. 

“No, I-I mean…” you flush hot.

“He’s just trying to rile you up, baby,” Satoru’s white lashes sweep to where his cum is starting to drip from your hole, “besides, I want your mouth next. I have…payback, in mind.” His gaze cuts to Nanami. 

Five bodies tango around each other far too easily. 

Suguru slips beneath you, Satoru stands before you, while Nanami and Toji make the bed groan and creak under the weight of their knees.

There’s no pause once Toji’s hands latch on to your hips, his fat fingers mean and greedy as he pops the head of his cock into your asshole. You hiss at the full feeling, only for the sound to bleed into a whine as Suguru nudges his cock into your puffy folds, pressing until he breaches the first ring of slicked muscle. 

Your head falls to Suguru’s chest as they both begin to push. 

The spread is delicious and excruciating all at once, so much pressure in your holes as Toji ruthlessly starts thrusting. He’s working his way in, grunting, worming his cock until you’re halfway down his thick shaft. 

“Ahhh, oh, oh, ‘s so much!”

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay, pretty baby.” Satoru pets your head as your nails rake down Suguru’s arms. 

“Toru—can’t fuck, too full, oh god, god, god, fuckkkk.”

Suguru notches his cock just a little deeper in your pussy, making you weep. 

“Yeah you can, sweetheart,” Nanami’s talking to you but looking at where you’re being split apart, lip sucking between his teeth. “You can take more. Promise.”

Not that you have a choice. Toji grunts as he thrusts once, twice, finally forcing his way in deep and smacking his hips until he’s flush with the jiggle of your ass. You scream and you’re sure any music playing in the house can’t drown out the sound. 

“Hurry up, Sugu. Or I’ll start fucking her without you.” Toji kneads his knuckles into the fat of your ass, tsking. 

You do it for him. You press down, down, down until you’re sucking Suguru’s raw cock all the way in so you can feel full. 

Your walls feel thin, like you can feel the outline of both dicks as they start to move together. Slow, at first, since you whine and coo and reach up and grab Satoru’s thighs like you’re afraid you’re going to topple over from their power. Then the pace really starts, a cacophony of skin on skin and grunts that have your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

Your guts are a mess as you finally pick your head up and look at Satoru, tears and mascara streaming down your face as your silly brain tries to make sense of the all-encompassing ecstasy of being so full and used. 

“God damn you’re perfect, aren’t ya?” Satoru weaves his fingers in your hair, soft and sweet, guiding your mouth to his cock. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, hiccuping every time the cocks inside you slam up and in sync. 

Satoru smears his cock over your awaiting tongue, popping the head into the softness of your cheek before pulling out and rubbing the leaking slit over your tastebuds. 

“Mhmmm gonna keep you as a little pet, okay? I’ll let you have any dick you want, whenever you want it. Sound good?” 

You nod, finally feeling stable enough to reach back and wiggle your fingers for Nanami. 

Nanami slots his cock into your palm, groaning as your fingers fasten around him and begin to pump along his length.

“Need some help with that?” Toji’s scarred lip pulls into a smirk before a suck, swish sounds in his mouth. He spits over Nanami’s cock, the wet glob sinking between your fingers as you tug and pull his heated shaft.

“Nasty fucker.” You hear Nanami mumble under his breath.

“Oh yeah?” Suguru snaps out his pussydrunk haze beneath you, one of his hands leaving your thigh so he can curl his fingers over yours on Nanami’s cock and help jerk him off. “Toru can still taste your cum in the back of his mouth.”

Satoru gives you a wink and one last chance to breathe before he pushes his cock between your lips. You moan around him, finally, completely, entirely fucking full. 

Every hole is stretched, your body aches, pleasure bubbling under every inch of your overheated skin like you’ll erupt at any moment. 

You barely know who you are, can barely think beyond the carnal craving of being full and filled and used. Your hips roll back to match the sinful pace set by Suguru and Toji, your head and hand move in rhythm together as you work for Satoru and Nanami.

Toji fists one hand in your hair, pulling you back and bouncing you against their cocks. Your eyes snap up as Satoru follows the shift of your body, settling his knees over Suguru’s face so he can keep fucking into your hot mouth. You hear Suguru groan as the thick threads of his hair get tangled beneath Satoru’s weight—though it doesn’t sound like he minds it.

“What a fuckin’ slut,” Toji sneers and latches his other hand around your neck from behind. “Push deeper, Toru, wanna feel your cock in her throat.” 

Satoru cants his hips forward and you open your mouth the best you can, still gagging as the length of him pounds into the back of your throat. Squeezing his thick fingers around the sides of your neck, Toji pets his thumb down the center column of your throat. He can see and feel the dick inside your neck. 

Drool soaks your cheeks, bubbling around the tight suck of your lips. You hollow your cheeks and press your tongue to the veiny underside of Toru’s cock and let him use you.

Suguru’s cursing, cock plunging into the wet squish of your pussy with every groan. He squeezes his fingers over yours around Nanami’s cock, both of you moaning at the increase of pressure. Then he dips his hand lower, fingers sinking around heavy balls as you twist your wrist and tug, thumbing the Nanami’s sensitive ridge.

“Shit fuck, fuck you both.” Nanami grumbles, knees faltering until he has to brace himself on one arm on the mattress.

“Kento,” Toji grits his teeth, panting now from how hard he’s thrusting into your abused, tight hole, “cum on her ass. Gonna, ah, need more lube.”

Nanami swats your hand away, moving out of your eyesight to kneel behind you. You hear the deep baritone of his groan before you feel his hot cum pool and drip down your ass. 

“That’s it, yeah.” Toji’s fingers smear in the mess Nanami made, coating the base and middle length of his cock with cum as he pulls out, only to push the gooey mess back into your hole. 

Nanami collapses on his back, lungs expanding as he watches your breasts bounce from below.

“Ah, ah, god, ah,” you don’t know how long you’ve been babbling around Toru’s cock for—probably this whole time, a garbled, drooling mess of lewd sounds. 

“Fuck, keep, ah, shit, keep fucking her just like that, her throat’s gettin’ tight.” 

Suguru takes the initiative to swipe his thumb over your sensitive clit. Your nerves buzz instantly, making your cunt convulse and suck. You’re close, so overstimulated you’re not sure if any of your senses actually work anymore. Your vision is blurred, your hearing just a thump of music and skin and groans, your fingers numb as you grip both hands into Satoru’s thighs, and all you can taste and smell is his salty cock twitching on your tongue and thumping into your hot mouth. 

Your sanity is only held together by the push and pull of the cocks inside you. You can feel how both Suguru and Toji’s cockheads bully past one another, curving and dipping just perfectly into spongey, soft spots you didn’t know existed in your body. Your gummy walls are swelling, straining around the double penetration.

“Fuuckkk, make her cum, Sugu. I bet this little ass will get so god damn tight and strangle my fucking cock. Fuckin’ do it.”

The way you try to say please around Satoru’s dick in your mouth makes him laugh, a little maniacal sound that makes you burn with need. You jolt your hips forward as much as you can, pressing into the thumb that starts flicking like lightning across your clit. 

“Shit, she’s already m-making a mess,” Suguru lets out a groan that rumbles your body, sinks into your bones and makes you tremble. Slick is so wet and hot between your legs, making both your holes sloppy as cocks search for bliss inside your tight suction. 

Satoru suddenly cums down your throat and you’re suffocating, spurting and gagging as he forces you to swallow a few spurts before he jerks his cock from your lips. He fists himself until pearly strings shoot across Nanami’s chest. 

“Filthy,” Nanami drags his finger through the cum on his skin, gathering enough to flick toward your tits, “all of you.”

You’re gasping like you’ve been beached, falling down onto Suguru and burying your face in his shoulder.

Finally you reach the peak, the point of no return, your whole body spasming as you cum. 

You scream and bite into skin, every single nerve ending in your body exploding and firing with ecstasy and intensity. It hurts, your cunt clenching and pulling and sucking around two throbbing cocks. Your body squeezes them together, walls stretched so thin that you can feel their veins pumping like heartbeats searing your insides. You’re so stuffed, plugged, fuller than you fear you ever will be again.

The choked sounds from Suguru and Toji are divine, four hands gripping and bruising your body to keep you still so they can fill your holes until cum bursts from your seams. 

Suguru’s hand cups the back of your head, both to soothe and pry your canines from his flesh. 

“Atta girl, atta girl, so good, you’re okay.”

“More than okay,” Toji wolf-whistles, smacking his hand across your ass to hear you yelp, “your little body is fuckin’ spectacular.”

He takes his time sliding out of your ass, more for him than you, you’re sure, so he can savor the last drags of your swollen walls around his shaft.

The empty feeling of your open ass makes you whine, but still you lift your head, sitting back on your heels, moaning as you shift on Sugu’s cock. You watch Toji step back into his gray sweats, grinning as he snaps the elastic band low on his toned stomach. 

“Well, well, guess this one didn’t get broken.” He slaps Satoru’s shoulder as he throws open the bedroom door and leaves with, “She might even be up for round two.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, slinking deeper into the desk chair he’s occupying, spent cock resting between his thighs. 

“You okay?” Two voices say in unison, Nanami and Satoru. Suguru has his arm across his eyes, dark hair like ink spilling over the sheets.

“Mhhhmm,” you nod, the afterglow rolling over your skin as you manage to pull yourself off the last remaining cock plugging your body. You collapse next to Nanami, face down in pillows that have been shoved to the back of the bed. 

The group of them start talking, but your ears are ringing, thumping with your blood and the still raging music below the floorboards. 

“Baby.” Satoru runs his fingers down your back, shaking your ass to get your attention. You groan as you feel cum spill from both holes from the movement. 

“You should treat your playthings better, Gojo.” Nanami pats your head and out of the corner of your eye you see him almost smile. 

“Oh yeah? You think you can do a better job? She loves me, don’t you baby?” 

You nod your heavy head, one of your feet kicking up playfully.

“Give her to me for a week and we’ll see if she comes crawling back to you.”

“You can have her anytime she wants,” you hear Suguru grunt from what sounds like a hefty pat on his chest from Satoru, “any of you. She’ll be our pet.”

[makoodles]

ミ stay for something

🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.

You look good. You feel good. 

It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron. 

He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.

It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.

You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.

Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to— 

No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.

When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.

Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight. 

The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.

You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.

When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.

The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.

“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”

He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.

But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left. 

Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.

Oh no. No fucking way.

As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.

A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.

The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.

“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”

“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.

“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.

“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.

Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.

“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”

Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.

“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.

You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.

Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.

And sure enough–

“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.

“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”

“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless. 

Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.

You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.

Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.

“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress. 

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.

Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.

“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.

“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”

God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.

Still, you persevere.

“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.

Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.

“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”

“Neither did I–!”

Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.

“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”

You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.

You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.

It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed. 

Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.

Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.

Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.

You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.

“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”

You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.

“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.

He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.

“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.

You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly. 

“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.

Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.

He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.

The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.

“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”

“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.

“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.

You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.

“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.

There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”

“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”

He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead. 

“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”

You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back. 

It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.

“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face. 

“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.

He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together. 

But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give. 

Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.

Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.

“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”

You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him. 

You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.

You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.

“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.

“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”

You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.

The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.

You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.

You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.

Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.

“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”

You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.

“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”

You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?

His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.

“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.

“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”

That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.

“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”

He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.

Yet still, you don’t move.

The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.

Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.

But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.

Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.

Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed. 

You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.

“Kyle–”

“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”

Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.

You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.

“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”

As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.

If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.

“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”

Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had. 

God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.

“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.

“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.

It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”

The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.

“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”

“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.

“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”

It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.

“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”

“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”

His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.

“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.

Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.

“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.

“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.

He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.

“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”

In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.

He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.

“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”

Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp. 

You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.

True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.

You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.

Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.

“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”

You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.

“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?

Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.

“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”

The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.

“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him. 

Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.

“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.

He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.

“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”

“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”

Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again. 

He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest. 

“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.

This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.

“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.

He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good. 

Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.

Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical. 

But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.

“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.

You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him. 

Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.

The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.

His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you. 

That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.

But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.

“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”

As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face. 

You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.

You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone. 

Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.

Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.

Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!

The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.

You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible. 

The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.

“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.

“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive. 

Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.

Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.

“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”

His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.

“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”

You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.

“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.

The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.

You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.

“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized. 

His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”  

You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.

“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”

Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.

“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”

Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.

“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”

It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.

Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth. 

You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold. 

When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.

It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.

“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—

He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.

He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.

“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.

“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.

His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.

Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”

You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.

You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer. 

“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.

Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.

“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”

When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.

“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips. 

You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.

“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.

You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.

You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that. 

“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”

Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you. 

“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”

You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.

Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated. 

“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.

“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”

The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.

“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.

He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up. 

“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.

Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.

“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.

Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.

He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.

“You okay?” He asks quietly.

You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.

“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.

No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.

You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.

You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.

But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”

You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.

“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”

You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up. 

“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.

The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.

You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.

You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”

[cvnt4him]

Hold on ..... Bc katsu fucking you in izus bed?!!

It wasn't on purpose.....initially. you n katsuki had a couple of drinks together in the yuei college dorm house, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself fondling each other's body through sloppy spit filled kisses and sweaty movements trying your hardest to get each others clothes off. Within an instant of stripping you of your close he turned you around and pushed your face into the pillows. He fucked you roughly from behind, not much prep due to him being extremely horny. The gutteral groans he let out the second his cock entered your walls were perfect. You could tell which each thrust he was losing more of his composure, his control. This big tough act he out of was falling. Soon the groans turned into stifled moans and small carefully muffled mewls. his hips piston into the back of your ass with such heavy force. He felt the edge coming quicker than expected, katsuki hated when he got like this he could never hold back. He lifted his foot onto the bed and thrusted into you with so much force. The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs, you were gasping but it's as if the air left as soon as it came in. Katsuki had a hand placed on your lower back slightly on your ass while the other held your head down with a terrible grip, your head was beginning to hurt but how could you begin to care when you had a soon to be pro heros cock inside of you?! Katsukis motions were getting sloppy, his thighs flexing and slightly quivering as he chanted in his mind not to cum just yet, his forehead was sweaty and the hot breaths you both let out were moistening the air. Katsuki soon began to speed his thrusts up once again, making the entire bed shake. The faster he moved the rougher his thrusts got, the back of your thighs and ass were sure to be red, not to mention the fact he'd been gripping your ass cheek terribly hard.

“ fu- fuck...”

His small words were breathy yet strangled, you could hear the way he was holding back. His thick and veiny hand brang a harsh slap onto the flesh of your ass, not just one however. Soon it was two, then three, then four and so much more. He couldn't stop, the slight jiggle of your ass when he hit it triggered something in him. He had his eyes squeezed shut when you two first started in hopes of not cumming, but when he seen your ass bouncing back against him without his help, the way you were just ass needy for him as he was you... Fuck how could he not cum inside?

You two cleaned yourselves up, slightly sobering up after the liquids you two ended up losing. He sniffled before standing and taking notice of his surroundings. His slightly blurry eyes blinking away the tears that wettened his eyes. Katsukis eyes widened before he realized...... That was dekus room..... He looked around at every little detail of the room before his eyes landed on a limited edition super rare or wtv all might card that was preserved in a card slip thing to keep it clean n unbent n shit. It looked u touched and so beautiful, identical to the same one katsuki had....

Katsuki looked down at you and how your legs were slightly shaking, you were sitting on dekus bed cleaning the sticky messing between your thighs with some random blue shirt. You threw it on his bed before standing and leaving without a word. Katsuki gulped and walked out behind you. Hopefully the dimwit wouldn't notice......

Oh but did he. Three days after the party izuku finally decided to go back to his dorm instead of staying at his girlfriends, he mostly just went for some more clothes to take back to ochakos but whatever. He walked into a cold but not so empty room grabbing what he needed and heading towards the door before he realized.....the display he had up over his bed was all messy, the allmight bobble head's were slightly out of place and his other nicnacs were knocked over aswell, somewhat out of place. He hummed of disapproval before heading towards his bed to fix it. Once fixed he looked at his bed that was rather messy aswell...he knew he didn't leave it like that. So, who did? He looked at the crinkled all might shirt that he normally wears to bed and smiled. That was the shirt he'd wanted to wear. His face contorted in a confused way at the feeling of the fabric, it was rather weird. It wasn't as soft as it usually is once washed. He hadn't worn the shirt in a while though, how could it be dirty? He gave the shirt a quick smell before throwing it out of his hands and shivering. It smelled of a familiar smell....for the most part, bodily fluids.

Explaining this story to a couple of the guys he shared classes with they all laughed at the poor green haired boy who regretted not just staying in his room the night of the party. Katsuki however was trying his hardest not to laugh through the small tinge of guilt he felt. It wasn't HIS fault, maybe izuku shouldn't have left his dorm door u locked.