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400badrequest · 2 days ago

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a bit presumptious | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Mr Murdock is a good boss - it's not his fault that you day dream about him fucking you.

WORD COUNT: 4.6K

cw: enthusiastic cunnilingus, gratuitous smut, office sex, age difference

A/N: ik i spelt the title wrong this is a cross post from AO3 here

Interning for Nelson and Murdock was supposed to be good. Well, it was, but it was exhausting. While it was definitely better than the other less ethical options there was always so much to do. Your desk was constantly buried in paperwork no matter how late you stayed, things to be sorted, filed, signed by Mr Murdock (“Please. I know I’m older than you, but Matt is fine.”) or Mr Foggy (“Better than being called Mr Nelson!”). You were beginning to understand why Karen said fuck it and decided to pursue a journalistic career. It didn’t help that the heating was always broken and that even with your scarf and stockings you were still freezing your nips off.

“Mr Foggy left some files on your desk before he left for his date,” You tell Matt when he arrives from the cold outside, watching as he tugged off his bulky coat. “Said that Detective Sergeant Mahoney wanted a second opinion on them.”

The wind had left his soft hair tousled, and he huffs a little as he runs his fingers through it in an attempt to fix it - you bite back a laugh as he somehow manages to make it worse. “Thank you,” Matt says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. “I can’t believe Foggy and Marcy’ve been together for two years now.”

You can’t help but watch as he takes his glasses off to wipe the rain off them, immediately locking onto his soft, unfocused eyes. He rarely took them off around you and tended to slip them back on when you entered a room. Foggy had explained once that he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the empty vacant look that they always had, glazed as he looked slightly past you - and you’d never really quite known how to tell him you didn’t mind.

“They’re cute,” you offer as he walks past you to his office. “Mr Foggy said something about um- Danny being an angel? They’re going to the Met for dinner.”

“ Danny?” Matt says from the doorway of his office. “That’s one hell of an anniversary date.” There’s a fond chuckle in his voice as he turns around. “Ow.”

“You okay?” You stand up quickly, heels clicking as you dash to his office. He waves you off, hand resting on the edge of the corner of his table, fingers rubbing at the corner. Your breath stutters as you can’t help but watch as his index and middle finger part over it, circling slowly.

“Bumped the desk,” he admits.

“Oh uh- that’s my fault,” you say, embarrassment colouring your voice. “I ran into it when I put the paperwork on your desk - I completely forgot to move it back, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he chuckles softly, shifting the table back. “Accidents happen.”

You can’t help but hover awkwardly in the doorway as he sits at his desk. The only light filtering into the room is from the dandelion yellow street lamp outside, peeking through the slats of the open shades. Shadowy impressions of rain trace their way down Matt’s face, tinted glasses almost black. Your eyes trail down with a droplet that slips down the window, following as its dark echo dancing down his throat and shirt, until it disappears into the shadow hidden behind his desk. He hums, fingers tracing the braille of the file.

“Do you want coffee?” You blurt. “I- yeah. I need coffee. I’ll get you some-”

You turn on your heel and beeline for the tea station that Karen had set up ages ago. Matt’s chuckle follows you while you click on a new pot of coffee.

It made you feel like a perv - tracing your eyes across him when he’s across the room, watching his hands flex when he held his coffee cups, staring at his scruff when he smirked. Foggy sometimes stifled laughter at your rising flush whenever Matt pressed his hand to your lower back to move you out of the way, or to figure out his way around an unknown space. It was even worse when it felt like Matt had caught you, head sometimes tilting in your direction when you looked. You knew he couldn’t see you, but still.

You sigh as you slump against the counter, fighting the want to bury your head in your hands and scream. The crush you were fostering on your boss was just a crush (at least that’s what you told yourself). It stemmed from admiration - Matt was so terrifying and silver tongued in court, but kind and soft spoken to clients. And it didn’t help that he liked to act like he cared about you sometimes; making sure you were sleeping, eating, draping his coat on you when it got too cold, tsking softly and exasperatedly when you prioritised studies over basic needs.

It wasn’t helpful either that you’d seen the types of women he went for - slim, willowy and assertive. You… you weren’t that. You didn’t have the genetic gifts of mile long thin legs and a godly metabolism. Your tummy pressed up against your pants whenever you tucked your button downs in, and the insides of your thighs rubbed together when you walked. Marcy said it made you a real woman, not some waif - but that didn’t stop you from believing that despite his lack of sight, Mr Murdock would somehow know.

Giving in, you groan into your elbow as the pot dings, giving yourself a single minute. Then, you straighten your blouse, pour two cups - both with milk, one with sugar - and walk back to Matt’s office.

“Coffee,” you say, putting it on his desk, careful not to place it on any paper. “6 o’clock, 7 and a little bit inches.”

Matt hums as he grabs it smoothly. “You’ve gotten better at that,” he praises and you flush as you lean in the doorway, trying to ignore how hot the coffee is as it burns down your throat.

“I’m trying,” You reply, a grin in your voice. “Helps that you’re easy on the eyes.”

“What?” Matt startles with a laugh, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Uh-” you stumble over your words. “I mean- like- as in y'know- um-” A small grin starts to curve at Matt’s mouth. “I watch you.”

“You watch me.” He rises at that, hands braced on the table. It’s starting to spread into a proper smirk.

“Wait, no, not like that.” You say, affronted. “As in like- uh- watching how you do things, how you move so I can make it easier.”

“Mm, really.” There’s a chuckle weaved in his words. “ That’s what you mean by ‘easy on the eyes’?”

“Yes,” you squeak, lie tumbling out. “Absolutely.” You can feel your palms start to sweat, and it is not from the heat of the cup in your hands. Somehow, Matt has managed to get around the table, now leaning on it with his ankles crossed, hand braced behind him. You can’t stop your eyes tracing from his dress shoes, up to his belt and hovering there before your gaze crawls to his face. Matt’s head is cocked slightly to the side, as if listening to something.

“So the way you’re undressing me with your eyes has nothing to do with you finding me attractive?”

“Jesus Christ, how did you-?”

“I’m blind, not stupid,” Matt says with a smirk, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at how the shadows cut across his front, biceps tight in his dress shirt.

“Never said you were,” you reply weakly.

“Vision isn't the only sense that humans have, you know." He says wryly.

“I know that!”

"Do you?” His voice is teasing as he steps forward. “From the sound of your voice, the way you walk, how you always swallow when I touch you - I don’t need sight to know what you like.” You can’t stop the shiver that runs up your spine as he takes the cup from your hand, placing it on a filing shelf. “I can feel the heat coming from your body, the way it radiates off you."

Your head bonks against the door frame as you groan, face colouring with fluster and embarrassment. “Shush. Shut up, sir.” You grumble, doing your best to not look at him.

His voice is tinged with amusement as he talks. "What's the matter?”

“C’mon sir,” You whine a little. “You’re being unfair.”

"I never knew I could cause you to have a crisis by just speaking." Matt murmurs. You can smell his laundry powder - it’s faintly floral. For a moment you’re glad he’s blind, knowing he can’t tell you’re staring at the soft curve of his bottom lip.

"I- fucking- I’m going home,” You rush out. "I can't do this. I can't do feelings, feelings for my boss " You moan, face hot with what feels like shame. Maybe it’s arousal.

“Wait." Matt murmured, the tone of his voice taking on a more serious edge. A small frown pulled at his lips. "You don't have to go. We can just ignore this entire conversation - forget it even happened." His voice is genuine, gentle and concerned. “Please.”

You swallow thickly, having to tilt your head up to look up at him, door frame digging into your spine.

When you don’t speak or move, a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. His step forward is quiet, and even with your back already against the frame, you can’t help but push into it a little more. “What do you want?” He murmurs softly, gently cupping your hands with his. The calluses of his palms are rough against your smooth knuckles, the contrast jarring.

“I- I don’t-” You stutter, voice caught in your throat. What the fuck was happening?

His thumb lightly brushed against the palm of your hand, gentle and comforting as he felt across your love line.

Matt took another step closer, so close you could nearly feel his breath on your cheek, his firm chest gently pressing against the swell of your breasts.

"What do you want?" He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a small whimper, looking up at the scruff on his jaw, the aged lines on his face, the greys starting to grow at his temples. Matt- Mr Murdock was much older, more experienced. There was the faint sparkle of greys in the stubble around his mouth too.

Without a word, he reached up and gently cupped your soft jaw in his hand. The pad of his thumb gently stroked across your cheek, and you did your best to breathe as he tilted your face up to meet his unseeing gaze behind his glasses. A flush had warmed your face - he could feel the vestiges of innocence in the curve of your face.

You could tell that even through the darkened shades he was doing his best to focus all of himself on you. Your heartbeat thumped hard in your throat - hard enough that he could feel it on the fingers curled gently around your jaw.

He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Just tell me what you want," he whispered again, his voice low and husky, a tinge of pleading in his tone.

"Please," You whisper, tilting your face up. " Please."

"Please, what?" He tilted his head to the side. He was so close, his lips almost brushing against yours. He could smell the sweat and desire on you, you were sure of it. "Tell me what you want," he said again, his voice almost guttural. Your eyes flutter shut on instinct - from need or shyness, you don’t know. Your free hand twists into the doorframe.

You know he can’t see you. But at that he groans and holds you still as he presses a firm full kiss on your waiting mouth. It’s slow and gentle, and for a moment he just holds you there - until you groan just the tiniest bit.

It’s like a switch flips - he drops your other hand, gripping at your plush hip and presses you hard into the jamb, squishing your soft tits and the swell of your tummy into the muscled planes of his body. The hand that was once gentle on your face snakes up into your hair, tugging until it’s out and then tangling his fingers firmly at the base so he can manipulate your head so he can deepen the kiss into something wet and filthy.

You gasp, pulling him in closer with the front of his shirt, scrambling for purchase as you twist your hands in the fabric. As your mouth opens, Matt licks in - he tastes like sweet coffee and spit and sin. A whimper leaves you, unbidden, as he continues to paw at your soft hips, body lighting up from the inside. You know your underwear is ruined as it sticks to your cunt, already dripping from the feeling of him on you.

He made a groan of his own, the sound escaping low and deep in his throat. His face is flushed, eyes lidded as he pulls away, still holding you in place.

"Oh fuck-" You whine as he pull away, you bosom heaving against his solid chest. "What the fuck, come back-"

Matt wets his swollen lip, his breath heavy. You know that you probably look the same - if not worse. He leaned down and brushed his lips over the soft exposed skin of your neck, leaving soft, feather-like kisses as he used his grip in your hair to gently guide your head to the side. "So impatient," he teases.

At that you moan reedily. “Oh- Matt-”

His grip on your hip tightened, pulling you firmly against him. You squeak as your breasts squish into him, pelvis to pelvis - you can feel him thickening in his pants, a flush climbing your cheeks.

Matt’s lips rove lazily over your skin. He could feel your pulse flutter against his lips, racing harder and faster. You could feel his sharklike grin as he hummed softly against your skin. "Be patient," he chided, biting gently at your throat.

A strangled groan rips from you as you feel him slide the hand on your hip to your chest, gently palming your full tits. “Okay?” He murmurs quietly. You don’t have the brain to be embarrassed about the pudge of your tummy being smushed.

“ Yes,” you whine. “Yes, just- please, Matthew.”

That’s all it takes for him to break - his mouth is back on you, fierce and possessive. “Again. Say it again,” He demands between kisses. You hear a clatter - he’s ripped off his glasses, throwing them carelessly behind him.

“Matthew,” you breathe out as you slide a hand so it's pressed against his firm abdomen, heel against your abs, fingers ghosting his belt buckle. Matt growls at that, dragging you to his desk roughly - papers and pens alike hit the floor.

“Do you have any��idea what you do to me?” He grinds out as he tugs open your pants. "Any?” “Matt-!” You squeak as he rips your blouse open, buttons flinging across the room. Your soft breasts sit heavy in your utilitarian bra, and he tuts when he feels it. His fingers are adept and nimble as they quickly unhook the back, wrenching it off - it skitters when it hits the wood floor.

“ Fuck-” he bites out as he palms the dove soft, squishy flesh of your tits, roughly palming at your nipples. A small shriek pops out of your mouth when he twists a perk nipple, standing proud in the cold. In turn you start to fumble with his belt but he gently smacks your hand away, dropping to his knees.

“Matthew?” You ask confused - but he shoves his way forward, lifting one of your legs so it's hooked over his shoulder. Embarrassment floods your face when he mashes his face directly up against your clothed cunt.

“Matt!” you can help but protest, as he groans and you yelp as you feel him grab at the zip and rip your fucking pants so that your drenched panties are on display. “ Fuck,” He snarls, hands on your soft thighs, fingering at your stretch marks, kneading at them. “I can smell you from here.” Matt sounds enamoured, and he whines as he presses his nose to your soaked cunt, lapping at the cloth.

“Oh my guh-” You can’t get the full word out - he shoves your panties to the side, latching onto your clit with his mouth and sucking. Your brain shorts out for a moment, all forms of conscious thought disappearing. His moans are almost as loud as yours when he finally unlatches to smack the flat of his tongue against your wet messy slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt whines, throaty and wrecked. Your heart stops for a moment when you look at him, where he’s cradled in your thighs - for the first time, you can see the proper softness in his unseeing gaze, the longing crease between his eyebrows. “Can I-”

“Yes, yes,” You rush out, nodding frantically. “ Please, Matthew.”

Normally, Matt was incredibly pedantic about making sure his partners knew what they were agreeing too - but you. You . You made him toss common sense on the window. He groans and shoves his face back into your slick cunt, ignoring your yelp when your legs are stretched open further to accommodate his broad shoulders. He stands so he can shove harder into your wetness, cheeks smearing your arousal everywhere. Spit and slick dribbles down your taint and arse and over Matt’s stubble - but he can’t find himself to care as he laps at you, trying to eat his fill. The rasp of his five o’clock shadow against your hole is sickeningly delicious. The smell of your arousal was so heady and intoxicating that he couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed at how desperate he was acting.

He can’t help but groan, realising you can barely see him over the chub of your mons and plush tummy. Your body is so delightfully soft and Matt can’t resist the urge to grab and paw at your soft pudge - your stomach, your padded hips, your thighs. The way your heart ticks faster when he starts grabbing at you only urges him on more. One of his hands drifts back to your swollen clit, still sensitive and puffy from being sucked on - your hand grabbing firmly at his hair when he starts deftly rubbing tight circles as it. The pulling and yowling seems to encourage him of anything, licking more firmly.

The press of his fingers, the fingers you’d spent hours daydreaming about, finally press into your sloppy hole as he switches his mouth back to your clit. “Are you even breathing?” You can’t help but ask - the rumble of his laugh tells you he’s probably not doing it enough. “Oh fu-” Your back bows as he rubs methodically against the spongy bit at the roof of your cunt, stupid noises babbling out of you when you grip at his hair. “Ma- Matt, Matthew, oh God, oh o -”

His fingers stop moving as much, just pressing hard as your cunt starts to seize, your body curling tightly as your muscles tighten immensely at the precipice of your orgasm. Your clit twitches as the nerves under the skin continue to be abused by Matt’s mouth that was firmly suctioned to flesh directly under your soft mons. His nose was pressed into the flesh, squished happily into you. A hiccuped noise of pleasure rips out of you, reedy and desperate. “I- Plea-”

He doesn’t stop when you cum - he pulls his fingers out of you, yes, but he immediately starts lapping at your now puffy and leaky cunt like a dog, as if desperate to make sure he eats all of your dripping slick and cum. You shriek a little as he shifts you, licking at your taint to clean up all of it. “Mat- that- oh my god-”

“ Fuck , you’re such a good fucking girl,” Matt says, desperately out of breath. Your slick and his spit shines on the lower half of his face, and he doesn’t even attempt to wipe it off before standing and dropping his weight onto you to grab your face, kissing you wetly. You can taste your own thick arousal in his mouth, and can’t help but squeal when the seat of his pants bumps up against your sensitive sex.

“T-thank you-” You hiccup out between the press of his open mouth to yours. “I- please lemme-”

“Yeah sweetheart, hold on-” Matt rushes out as he tugs open his pants, groaning when his engorged cock slaps out against his stomach. It’s as large and as thick as the rest of him, nestled in a thatch of curls. Precum drops onto his shirt, and you can’t help but reach up and deftly unbutton it. Matt huffs a laugh at your gentleness - he’d all but ruined your blouse. Your eyes widen - you knew he was built and had some… rough history, but nothing prepares you for how the yellow street light dips and fills the curves of his trim muscles, the starkness of the thin gnarly scars that sit slashed across his full chest.

“Jesus, Matt,” you exhale, fingers gently tracing them. His expression softens as he hears the concern taint your arousal.

“I’m okay,” He murmurs, pressing his forehead to the roundness of your shoulder. His hands are gentle as he pulls you away from running your own over the scars - not to stop you, but to comfort. “It was a long time ago.”

You know there’s nothing you can say here - so you let him guide your face up so he can kiss you silly again, the head of his cock nudging at your cunt. Matt takes it slow, gently laying you out on the table so he can grip at your hips, revelling at the feeling of his fingers sinking into the soft padding.

“You’re so soft,” He can’t help but murmur, kneading at your hips like a cat. The raised smoothness of your stretch marks feel like a soft pulled silk against Matt’s fingertips. “Feel so pretty…”

“Matthew,” you whine, face pinking. “That’s- you’re my boss, you can’t say that!”

Matt laughs at that - a little disbelieving. “Sweetheart, I just ate you out until you came on my face, and I’m about to fuck you raw. I think I’m allowed to appreciate how beautiful you feel under my hands.”

“Fair enough,” you gasp out as he rubs the fat head of his cock up and down your slit. Matt groans, eyes shut tight with his free hand kneading your plump hip. The heady heat of your dampened cunt makes his senses blur at the edges, the world narrowing down to the throb of your pussy.

“Tell me I can fuck you,” Matt says, desperately, voice rough. “Sweetheart, please-”

“Yes, fucking damn it, Matthe- ah-”

Your breath catches as he notches the head of his cock into your cunt. It’s thick and hot, burning you from the inside out. “You can take it baby,” He grinds out, teeth clenched as he slowly slides all the way in. “There- there you go, good girl-”

You can’t help but gasp wetly as he bottoms out, eyes slamming shut as he gently starts rolling his hips. His heavy sac kisses against your taint and furled arsehole with each careful thrust as Matt carves a space in your cunt, slowly driving himself in harder and harder , until the table starts to shake with the force of it, your little ah, ah, ah ’s turning into gasped wails, as he whines into your shoulder. “Matthew-” you sob out as he grips tightly at your love handles so he can drag you onto his fat cock in time with his heavy thrusts. “Oh fuck- fuck-”

“So good,” Matt praises, strained as he pounds into you, hips snapping. He’d lowered himself onto you, his firmness pressing against your soft plush front. “Feel so good-” his tendons strain under your hands as you try to ground yourself by gripping at his wrist, spinning embarrassingly fast towards your orgasm.

“It’s alright, c’mon,” Matt pants out - he noses under your ear. “Cum for me, please- cum for me sweetheart-”

The noise you let out is high and animal, desperate - your stomach tenses awfully and hard, legs shaking as your orgasm rips through you. Matt’s arms tighten around you as he murmurs softly in your ear, hips still rolling gently. “That’s it, that’s it-” His voice is strained and raspy.

A wet sob gutters you. “Matthew, Matthew-”

Matt groans into your neck - you feel it when he cums, your throbbing cunt ripping the seed out of him. He chokes out a curse, his weight dropping down onto you, sweaty and pressing wet kisses onto your throat. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.”

It’s like lying in a dense fog when Matt pulls out of you with a wet schlop. “Oh fuck,” You mumble, blinking hazily. Matt chuckles.

“Good?” He asks softly, free hand coming up to cup at your cheek, thumb running softly under your eye. You whimper a little - you can feel the slick and cum dripping out of your puffy wet cunt, pooling onto the table. Matt chuckles. “That good, huh?”

Before you can reply, Matt hums, slowly ducking his head back between your legs. “Matt-” He shushes you softly. “Let me clean up the mess, baby.”

His tongue is gentle as he laps at the mess between your thighs. Matt can’t help but groan at the smell, the bitter salty and heady taste. He’d missed this - being able to indulge in a sweet used cunt, a woman sobbing in pleasure above him. With work and his growing affection for you, he’d lost the want for casual sex. Father Lantom would’ve been proud. Matt locks his lips to your hole and sucks, swallowing down the mix of your cum and his. When your whines turn from pleasured to overstimulated, pained, Matt pulls away, with a final soft kiss to your puffy clit. Then a soft press of his lips to your thigh, and your hip.

Matt looks like a damn vision when he looks at you - face flushed, hair sticking up in every direction. His smile is soft and heavenly as he gently eases you back into your pants, “Ah- sorry about your shirt, sweetheart,” He says sheepishly.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “You’re impossible,” You murmur, reaching forward and helping him button up his shirt - you’re still out of breath, and Matt’s skin is hot to the touch when you wipe the sweat off his brow. When he leans slightly into your touch, your heart stutters in your chest. Matt cocks his head a little, a small smile ticking at his lips, as if he can hear it.

He hums, pressing a small kiss to your cheek - then your lips. “Hello,” Matt murmurs - his expression is soft, the street light seeping across his face like water colour paint on a wet page.

“Hi,” You whisper, almost shy. Oh God, you’d just slept with your boss - your boss who was gently kissing your face as he dressed you. His hands are gentle on you, despite the rough pads of his fingers - like the rasp of sandpaper on silk. Matt chuckles.

It had started to drizzle outside - the faint sounds of sleet hitting the roof soft and cold as a faint breeze sneaks in through the gaps in the windows. Matt doesn’t say anything - just grabbing his coat off the back of his chair and gently pulling the heavy material onto your shoulders as he tugs you into his lap.

“Would it be presumptuous for me to take you out for dinner now?” Matt asks after a moment. A laugh startles out of you.

“Pretty presumptuous, yeah. But… I’d like that.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock smut #cross posting #daredevil x reader #daredevil

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voxslays · 19 hours ago

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THINGS THAT TURN THEM ON — SQUID GAMES

IN-HO

✮ Sitting on his lap. He loves the way you lean into him as he wraps his arms around your waist. It makes him feel closer to you. Bonus points if you’re watching one of the games together. In-ho couldn’t be happier. That, or you being pregnant. Either one works.

JUN-HO

✮ Seeing you tied (or handcuffed) at the wrists. What can Jun-ho say? He’s a cop, of course he has a thing for bondage! He also always has a handy pair of handcuffs close by. Call it police officer instinct, but he knows you like the way the cuffs stretch out your arms.

THANOS

✮ Snorting a line of coke off of you. Where? To Thanos, it doesn’t matter. It could be on your lower back, your stomach, your collarbone, or even your thighs—however, if he’s feeling really ‘intimate’ he’ll do it off your ass or boobs.

THE SALESMAN

✮ Whenever or wherever you bend over. Oh! You’re bending into the dryer to fold the dry laundry? Perfect. Leaning over the marble kitchen counters to grab something? Gong Yoo, although he is the enigmatic recruiter, known for keeping his composure, can’t hide his bulge.

A/N: Chapter thirteen of ‘Close to You’ in the works. Im definitely not going to be posting as much though—I’m trying to take a break from tumblr for a while.

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twice-inamillion · 13 hours ago

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The Company Series

Sister Reunion

Smut

Chapter 21

2,040 Words

(Welcoming someone new is always nice, so is having a bit of fun. )

“Just one more, you almost got it.”

“Argh, fuck… I can’t! I can’t…”

“Come on, you can do it.”

“Shut up, you’re why I’m in this place.”

Jessica squeezes your hand with all her might. “Argh, I’m so tired…”

The doctor enthusiastically says, “Just one more, almost there.”

Jessica gives one final push, “Argh!”

You feel like your hand is about to break off from the force when you hear a loud cry.

“There you go, “Congratulations to the both of you.”

Jessica finally lets go of your hand and asks, “Doctor, how is he?”

“A perfectly healthy baby boy.”

“Thank god.” Jessica’s relieved after going through so much, “Can I hold him?”

“Of course.”

You watch as the nurse approaches Jessica and gives her the newborn. She holds her baby with precaution and moves the thin blanket covering him. The baby is so tiny, its eyes struggling to open.

“My… my baby,” she says, caressing his face. Hearing his mother’s voice, the newborn slowly extends his hand, wrapping its fingers around her thumb.

——-

It’s been a few weeks since the baby was born. You’ve spent most of your time with Jessica and your child. At first, it was a bit nerve-wracking as you didn’t know how to hold or even change the baby.

Luckily, you picked things up quickly and enjoyed your time with them. You watched as the baby would cry whenever he was hungry and Jessica would immediately feed him. You could feel the sudden change, the motherly warmth she displayed.

“How is it that I’m jealous of my kid?”

Jessica looks at you and says, “This is for the baby.”

“Come on, let me have a taste,” you say as a tease.

”Stop… don’t say that in front of the baby,” she says in a playful tone.

“Then let me put him to sleep.”

Gently, you put the baby in the crib after a few minutes in your arms. It’s hard work but something that you hope to get used to.

As you turn your head, you see Jessica in a relaxed position, her blouse unbuttoned and her breasts completely exposed. She waves you down, “Come on, get mommy’s milk.”

You hip your lips and walk towards Jessica, laying your head on her lap. She slowly kneads her right breast, causing a slight cream fluid to appear from her nipple. She teases you and says, “Come get your drink.”

“Are you for real?”

“You said you wanted some, so here, have a taste.”

There’s no need for second thoughts as you trace your tongue across her nipple. Jessica feels goosebumps from the sudden sensation but doesn’t stop you as she watches you take her breast into your mouth.

“There, there… does it feel good drinking mommy’s milk?”

You nod, increasing the pressure of your suckling. She caresses your head and slowly gets turned on by the position you two are in.

“Let’s have some fun while we’re at it,” she says, looking at your shorts.

She slowly moves her hand, unzipping your shorts, not wanting you to get distracted. She fishes out your limp cock and wraps her cold hands around your member. It startles you, the cold sensation, but you don’t lose your attention on her breast.

Jessica gets a firm grip and slowly pumps your cock, peeling your foreskin until your mushroom head is in full view.

Hungrily, Jessica says, “I missed this cock so much.” You slightly open your eyes and see Jessica licking her lip. “It’s so nice and thick.” You feel her grip get stronger as she pumps you, “I know you’re fucking other women while, in a way, you're a fucken man whore.”

All you do is listen as you continue to suckle on her breast. Her strokes intensify, using your percum as lube. You grunt, “fuck… keep going.”

As she increases her stroking pace, you hear the door suddenly open, “Unnie, I brought you something to eat…” Krystal’s eyes widen at the scene before her, “Umm… sorry…”

“Don’t, it’s fine, come in.”

Krystal walks into the room and tries to avoid eye contact, but the sound of your meat being stoked prevents it. She stands a few feet away, but Jessica calls out for her, “Come, remember this cock?”

Krystal shyly walks towards the both of you and just watches as her older sister strokes your cock. Her eyes focus on the large amount of pre cum leaking from your cock.

With Krystal just above you, Jessica grins and increases the intensity of her strokes. “Remember his cock inside of you? How his cum filled you inside.” Jessica watches as her sister’s breathing becomes heavy, the memory of her being taken by you. Krystal feels herself getting wet just thinking about it.

Suddenly, she feels a hot sensation on her face, which snaps her back to reality. She touches her cheek and looks at her finger, a semi-transparent liquid. “What the hell… did he cum on me?”

Jessica looks at Krystal and says, “Sorry, he couldn’t hold it any longer. Look, he’s still leaking.” Krystal remains silent, watching as the tip of your cock slowly releases a stream of cum.

“Be a good younger sister and clean him off, please.”

“What? Wh…why should I?”

“Please…. You know I would, but, you know…” and looks at you, still sucking on her breast.

“Fuck, fine… where’s the tissues…”

Jessica tries to hold her grin, “Oh, I didn’t mean to use tissues; that’s a waste. How about you use your mouth.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t you know how precious his cum is?”

“But…”

“Do it…”

Krystal realizes how serious her sister is about this. She nods and slowly sits on the opposite side of Jessica. She gulps as she sees your cock covered in cum. Her body trembles as she puts her tongue on your slimy cum covered cock.

“Come on, Krystal, lick it off like a good girl.”

She whines, but deep down, she feels a sense of adrenaline from being treated so poorly. Slowly, she licks the base of your crotch, working her way from the bottom.

Eventually, after much licking, she gets to the tip of your cock. “Go on, have a taste from the source.”

Krystal grabs your cock and slowly presses it between her lips. Her mouth stretches as she takes most of your cock. She slowly bobs her head, remembering the previous time she had with you.

On the other side, you feel Krystal’s hot mouth on your cock and give a slight view. Jessica turns your cheek and kisses you, distracting you from what’s below. She suddenly whispers in your ear, “Go on, baby, have a little fun. She’s told me she can’t forget that one night.”

Your expression changes, and grabs Krystal’s head, “Your sister said you like my cock.” Krystal lifts her head and notices your smirk, causing her heart to suddenly beat faster.

“Come on, this cock isn’t going to suck itself.”

“Uh..uh…”

”Uh.. what? Go on.”

Krystal's body trembles, and nervously nods her head. She goes back to pleasuring your cock. She feels your gaze, knowing that you’re watching her as she goes down on you.

“Fuck… try taking more of it…”

She tries taking more of your member into her mouth, but it’s too much. Her mouth is already at her limit; she feels like her mouth would break. Krystal looks up and sees your face, “Go on…”

You get frustrated as Krystal takes her time and decides to give her a helping hand. Without her noticing, you put your hands around the back of her head and push her down. Krystal eyes widen by your sudden action. She feels her mouth stretch to its limit and tries to pull away but can't. It might just be a slight amount of pressure, but it’s too much for her small frame.

Krystal feels like her jaw is about to break, and a slight panic kicks in. She looks up at you and notices your face of satisfaction. She’d seen that face before with her boyfriend whenever she would go down on him and get upset when he would be forceful. With you, it was another story; she knew that you could be sweet based on your interaction with her sister but knows that getting you upset wasn’t something she would want to do.

She takes a deep breath and lets herself be used by your cock. You bob her head on your cock, feeling every part of her mouth and throat. You feel no resistance coming from Krystal and continue to enjoy yourself.

“Your mouth feels so good. You two are really sisters, haha.”

You press her head deeper, reaching her throat even more. The deeper you push, the more of a reaction you get from her. “I can’t stand it anymore, I’m going to fuck your face.”

Krystal’s facial expression changes as she feels a tighter grip around her head. She begins to gag as you thrust your cock back and forth. “Fuck, yes. That’s it.”

“Gawk, gawk, gawk…”

All you hear is the sound of your cock hitting Krystal’s throat, becoming a real-life fleshlight. Little by little, the lack of air causes her to panic; she puts her hands on your thighs and tries to push you off.

Instead, you hold her tighter than before, wanting to see her struggle with the remaining air she has. Krystal pushes you once more; she gives you a few smacks on the leg, signaling that she’s about to pass out.

She looks at you, and you can see the look on her face; she is begging you to help her. Words like, “Please, stop, I can’t breathe” go through her brain, but she can’t say out loud.

With her head on your hands, you feel Krystal tremble, her eyes twitching and starting to roll back. Suddenly, your balls explode and pour into Krystal's throat. You hold her with all your might as you pump her stomach full of your thick milk.

Krystal’s eyes finally roll back completely as her last remaining air runs out. “That was good,” you say as you pull out your flaccid cock out of her mouth.

Krystal slips off and hits the floor, your cum oozing out of her. You watch as there is no reaction from her. You kneel and grab her face, giving it a gentle slap.

*Cough, cough*

Krystal coughs heavily as her body takes in as much air as possible. “Look at the camera, little sis.”

Jessica snaps a series of pictures of her sister and says, “This is what you get for getting on my bad side.”

———

You’re returning to Korea after spending a few weeks with Jessica and your child. Currently, you’re in a conference call with Jieun to discuss the final details about the survival show that you and JYP plan on doing soon.

“Everything is going well with the preparations. You should have the most up-to-date information on the survival show.”

“Thanks for your hard work while I was gone.”

”It’s no problem, sir. I’m more than happy to step in when needed.”

There is a brief silence, “Something on your mind, Jieun?”

”Yes, sir. I have some news.”

”Go on.”

”I’m sending you a file through your secure phone.”

*Ding*

You grab your phone, see it’s a jpeg attachment, and download it. The screen changes, and you see Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa standing in a line, holding something in their hand. Your expression changes, “Is it what I think it is?”

”Yes, sir. Congratulations on breeding all four members.”

You can’t help but have a large smile and ask, “What was their reaction?”

”Jisoo and Jennie took it quite well. Lisa was a bit confused at the beginning but accepted the fact. Rosé, on the other hand, was bawling at the news and locked herself out for a whole day, but after a firm talk, I made her understand her position in the company.”

”Good…”

“I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”

”Relay a message to them.”

”Of course.”

”Tell them that I expected a lovely welcome when I arrive.”

#kpop smut #male reader #TM smut #the company series #the company #company series #snsd jessica smut #jessica jung smut #krystal smut #Krystal Jung smut #g idol x male reader #idol x male reader #girl idol smut #kpop idol smut #idol smut #girls generation smut

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shineon3 · 2 days ago

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hi sarah! for the situations ask game

22 + 43 maxiel 👀

From here.

Hi tysh!! This was fun to write tbh ^^ so here's some Fake dating + Truth or dare maxiel for you ❤️

“Okay, yall, we’re playing truth or dare!”

Max winces, his groan drowned in the sea of cheers that erupt in the room. Trust Charles for wanting to play stupid drinking games.

Next to him, Daniel laughs, loud and unrestrained, like he always gets as soon as he’s just a little bit tipsy.

Max watches the first rounds play out, thankfully being spared by the spinning bottle sitting in the middle of the table. He watches Franco awkwardly flirt with Lewis for a dare, cringes when Alex has to spill the beans about the infamous throat infection incident while George tries to get the earth to swallow him whole.

And then, just as he got comfortable being a spectator, the world sends him the biggest ‘fuck you’ ever uttered.

“So, Max. Truth or dare, hm?”

There’s a dangerous glint in Charles’ eyes, and he swallows, throat clicking a bit too loudly.

“Uh, truth, I guess?”

Charles’ smile widens, almost shark-like. Around them, the whole table falls silent.

“How did you and Daniel start dating?”

Max wonders if he can escape this if he slams his head hard enough against the table.

See, the thing is, Max and Daniel aren’t dating. Not really. It’s just that, at the beginning of the season, Charles, the paddock’s biggest gossip, had caught them sleeping in the same bed, something they did whenever one of them ended up being too tired after hanging out, and had drawn his own conclusions. Neither Max nor Daniel had denied it, thinking that Charles was just teasing them, but the Monegasque had spilled the beans to the whole grid, who now also believes they're dating.

Daniel had laughed when he found out, and then shrugged.

“They’ll understand their mistake sooner or later, I reckon. It’s not like we’re actually dating, Maxy, right?”

It just had to come back and bite their asses.

Of course.

Max should have known.

“We’re- Charles, we’re not dating.”

“Don’t lie, Max, I saw you. Daniel was practically naked in your bed!”

Fuck. Daniel had been practically naked in his bed. But that’s only because he’s used to sleeping in his boxers! It’s not weird!

Right?

Something tickles the shell of his ears, making him shiver.

“Go on, Maxy. Be a good boy and tell ‘em how we started dating, hm? Or should I do that for you, darling?”

Daniel’s deep, crooning voice rumbles right against his ear, and Max can feel himself flush. The brunette’s arms wrap around his waist, under the cover of the table, playing with the hem of his shirt. Fuck. How could Max forget how touchy Daniel gets when drunk?

“I suppose it is acceptable, if you’re the one to tell us,” Charles' smile is somehow even wider. Max will be getting new, better friends, after this. “Spill the beans, Daniel.”

And Daniel does. He tells an elaborated story about the start of their supposed relationship, where he “seduces Max with his wild looks and gentleman manners”, whatever that might mean. Max doesn’t fully pay attention to it, especially when Daniel’s hands shift lower, dangerously close to where Max has been half hard for a while, the older’s curious hands roaming around his midsection coupled with the way Daniel spoke to him just a minute ago enough to rile him up.

Okay, so. Max might have a tiny, itty bitty insignificant crush on his best friend. Might. He can’t help it if Daniel insists on looking like sex on legs whenever he wears clothes, if Daniel constantly crashes his bed because he “sleeps better on it”, if Daniel always invites him out for dinner, if-

“ - but if you’ll excuse us, I think Maxy and I have some things to do. Adios, losers.”

Max tunes back in just in time to get up when Daniel tugs at his arms, a big grin almost spreading his face in half. The brunette drags him out of the club and into a cab, tucking himself as close as physically possible to Max.

“We’re going back to my room, and unless you’re against it, I’m going to take my sweet time fucking you. Capiche?”

Max has never said yes to anything this fast.

#fic ask game #answered #tinytysh #ficlet #maxiel #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #dr3 #mv1

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 18 hours ago

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~{ Heyyy, So this is a post made with the help and suggestion of @villainmirabelmadriga so go check them out and now to the post! }~

•God-Queen•

Diana and has been invited by the God-Queen to heavens.

This was a great surprise for Diana as unlike the legends would say her stepmother adores her husbands children and often gives them her support the only reason for her reputation for hating her husbands children is because when she finds out she beats the hell out of Pariah while his children watch.

And speaking from one of the lucky children who have gotten to see it for herself it is amazing and definitely not with the added pluses of eating the sweets that her stepmother gives and petting her peacocks while talking with Lord Ares and Lady Eris who also like watching their “Father” get his ass beat.

Anyway Diana is certainly excited to visit her stepmother and she could ask why her father has been quiet for so long.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

It has been over 300 years since Danny home-world has been eaten by their sun and over thousands since Danny himself had fully died by the hands of his parents and the G.I.W.

When Danny had first died he was a mess and was never able to fully recover from his death when he had to start fighting the over ghosts and beating the G.I.W but the second time around Danny was much better prepared for it and he got the hang of being a full ghost very soon as it’s not that much different from being a half-ghost.

And he was mostly left alone unless it was his children Dawn and Dusk who he absolutely adores and his afterlife was calm until the Observers decided that with Pariah Darks madness mostly worked its way through that he was able to become king again but for everyone’s safety and to make sure this didn’t happen again they needed a Queen who would be able to put down any and all attempts for domination.

So Danny was chosen to become Queen as he was the only one able to beat him down and shove him back into his tomb so now Danny was the Queen.

And his life was good apart from having to kick Pariahs ass every few years it was fine especially when he got the most adorable Stepchildren out of this.

Speaking of stepchildren maybe he should invite Diana and Marvel over.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•The Gods often change gender so for Diana to see her stepmother as a man it is normal

•Danny has no romantic feelings for Pariah Dark, he mostly just beats the shit out of him for his lack of respect for women and putting his children through shit

•Dusk is Ares and Dawn and is Eris (mostly for the chaos part)

•Danny keeps on saying “Don’t worry about it sweetheart here have some [Insert Greek sweet]” whenever Diana asks where her father is

•In the past Pariah Dark kids would go to Danny when their father would be an asshole and watch as their stepmother beat the shit out of him and it was Glorious

•Captain Marvel has met Danny and Danny treats him like he does his stepchildren,And Marvel isn’t complaining he likes the sweets Danny gives him before he goes to beat Pariah back into submission while yelling “RESPECT WOMEN YOU BASTARD”

•Pariah Dark is still around Danny just throws his ass in the nap-time box when he pisses him off

•The reason the legends say that Danny hates Pariah Dark kids is because when he beats his ass they mistake the hate for the kids instead of him

•Danny is the Ancient Of Marriage and Family

•Dawn goes to pick up her little half sister and brother with some good old ghostly bonding and the JL think that Eris kidnapped her for Hera :)

•Dawn and dusk know Billy’s not their actual brother but their mother likes him so honorary little brother!

•~{The DC part is in Diana’s pov because even if I have no clue how to write her I’m worse that writing Billy}~

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Danny

[I wanted to put him into the 70s type thing but I couldn’t find one I like so you gremlins get this]

Dawn

Dusk

[^One for when he’s fighting and one for chilling^]

~{ And that’s it! Hope you gremlins like it byeeee }~

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darylsdelts · 3 days ago

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Hello there! I know you must be busy with uni but I really love your headcanons!! So yup, whenever you feel like it just let out all those thoughts you have, they will be appreciated by your loyal followers!😄

I’m glad you like them haha!

I’m tryna think of more!!

D.D head-canons: part idek anymore

🫧 should be wearing glasses, his eyesight has gotten slightly worse with age but only with close up stuff. Struggles to read over Jude’s homework for her and would just say it was good.

🫧 a few residents of Alexandria had wrongly assumed that him and carol were together and it made him very uncomfortable. He didn’t really know how to put those rumours to rest but they eventually went away… thank god.

🫧 really wanted a baby sibling when he was little, a sister more specifically. He used to wish he had a sibling closer to his age to play with when Merle wasn’t around.

🫧 used to try to take his teddy in with him during bath time and momma would have to explain to him that his teddy wouldn’t be any good wet. It ended in tears every time.

🫧 had to wear shoes too small or too big for him quite often when he was little. Either wearing merles old shoes or his own shoes that he had grown out of.

🫧 he liked the songs his momma would play and sing and would try to sing along with his cute baby voice. He sometimes still hums them when doing random tasks.

🫧 was really well behaved at school, at least early on, he really enjoyed the praise he’d get.

🫧 when he’s alone, sometimes over thinking or just feeling overwhelmed, he’ll stare down and count the eyelets on his boots, something he’s always done. It may not help much but he still holds onto it.

🫧 this is obvious but he’s a very private lover. He’s still sweet in company of others of course, and if only carol or someone he’s real close to is around, he’d rest his hand on your lower back or have his arm over your shoulders but he usually saves all the sweetness for behind closed doors. Also he would kill you if you let it slips that he sometimes whines for snuggles. Do not tell a soul.

🫧 took a long while for him to be comfortable to get teary eyed around you. If you could watch Disney movies together he’d definitely cry though.

🫧 he actually does want to be a father but he’s only brought it up once, scared it could pressure you if he brings it up again. He can’t fathom being able to carry a human in your body for nine months then pushing it out so he’ll wait for you to say something. If you never do, he’s okay with that.

🫧 he wouldn’t exactly propose. You’d probably bring up the idea of being married and he’d say something like “is that what you want?”/“would you want that?” To which you’d nod and he’d say “you can be”. The next day he’d go out and find the closest thing he could to resemble a pretty ring. He’s not materialistic and neither are you but he wants to be able to have something which shows you’re his. He’d get home and sit on the couch, taking your hand and sliding it on your finger. “Yeah?” He’d ask. ��Love ya so much”.

#norman reedus #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #my daryl thoughts

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hees-mine · 14 hours ago

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GAME - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, protected sex, car sex, cursing, dirty talk.

WC: 2k

“Hi, angel,” your favorite person (note the sarcasm), heeseung, says to you while leaning against your locker with that dumb, annoying smirk plastered on his face.

“No,” you reply, uninterested before he could even get out what he wanted to say.

Honestly, you were so sick of him coming up to you with the same old bullshit. He was literally a playboy and an asshole that you wanted nothing to do with, yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to leave you alone.

You slammed your locker in his face, and instead of being angry, he just chuckled at your annoyed expression, which made you even more annoyed by him. “Come on, baby, don’t be like that. You’re hurting my feelings.” he faked a sad tone and pouted at you.

You hated how cute you thought he was whenever he gave you that look but cute wasn’t enough for you to give into his wishes besides you know whatever he wanted with you wasn’t good and you knew better than to even give him the time of day when he was just toying with you. “Aww poor baby” you said sarcastically and rolled your eyes at him.

“Baby? Ooh, call me that again.” he bit his lip playfully.

You just shook your head, getting ready to leave before he could utter any more of his nonsense.

“Wait, I’m serious this time. Please just come to my game” he stood in front of you and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face, not his usual cocky smirk.

You contemplated on it cause he actually seemed genuine for once, but you knew if it was coming from Lee Heesueng, it wasn’t anything good, even if it was just watching a simple basketball game of his. “No”

He just sighed in defeat. “Okay” he put his hands up and stepped aside so you could get past that was uncharacteristic of him usually he’d pester you for at least another minute but you weren’t complaining.

You walked down the halls and headed home, and you heard his friends calling out to him. “Coming!” He replied, you don’t know why, but you looked back, and when you did, he was staring back at you, seemingly disappointed, as his friends slung their arms around him and dragged him further away from you.

read full story on patreon

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #enhypen smut #heeseung #enhypen hard hours #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen fluff #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenarios #lee heesung smut #lee heesung x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff

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eddiediazismyhusband · 3 days ago

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Disappointing to see fan expectations being raised time and again only to be let down. I agree that the way Tim Minear and the writers have handled the plot around Eddie and Buck often feels like queerbaiting. I ignore all interviews.

I try to ignore interviews but they always manage to find their way to me lol

it’s frustrating because a level of it also lies with journalists who obviously are going to beef up their own words and try to frame the actors’/tim’s words in a buddie aspect because a) they know the majority of the fandom want to read pro-buddie speak in these interviews, and b) they’re mostly buddie shippers themselves, so ofc they’re going to infuse their own desires into their articles

some of them are better than others, but in particular Jeff Conway drives me up a wall with how every day since his rg interview was posted, he’s been on twitter teasing it with this whole “oh- if you think of it this way…” bc he knows it will get him clicks, and it will get his article circulating through the fandom

that’s why whenever i see those posts of people going “what do the journalists know??” i want so badly to scream from the rooftops: “THEY DONT KNOW ANYTHING- THEY’RE BAITING YOU FOR CLICKS”

and like i said it’s not all of the journalists- a lot of them are very good at writing neutral and honest pieces while still being open about their love for buddie (kat pettibone comes to mind- in the way that she doesn’t imply that she “knows something” or in a way thst she’s visibly baiting people into reading her articles) but there’s been a recent uptick of abc giving interviews to journalists who do have a track record of hamming it up for clicks

i just hate seeing people getting their hopes up

so much bc i’m tired of being disappointed, and i’m tired of seeing every else be disappointed… i have so many people i do genuinely care about in this fandom and seeing them get their hopes up just for them to be dashed time and time again is not fun to watch

now, like i said- i sincerely hope that i am proven wrong and we get pleasantly surprised; however, knowing tim’s tendency for baiting, as well as as the fact that he’s now brought a bunch of lonestar writers and directors to the 911 team…… i fear we’re quickly witnessing the show’s descent into what LS was (no disrespect to the cast or fans, but LS was not great for most of its run bc it wanted so badly to push owne as the Lead, which ultimately ended with people getting tired of it, and the show got cancelled- the same thing tim is doing w bobby and athena now)

all in all… after the tim interview today, i’m still convinced that none of us are gonna be getting what we want by the end of the season- and as i’ve said before; if buddie hasn’t gone canon by s9, they never will.

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crow-with-a-typewriter · 1 year ago

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oh thats Joan. Bit of an intense stare, but a lovely guest and has an excellent taste in shinies. I highly recommend inviting her to any and all Samhain celebrations, her candleholder collection is beyond words.

I love jackdaws, they can look at you like no other bird.

#I’ve tried to ask her where she finds them #I’m pretty sure they’re from the gothic mansion hiding in the woods #feel like I’m being watched whenever I’m around there #thought I saw someone in the window once #western jackdaw #creepy mansion

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seumyo · 2 months ago

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when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

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bi-writes · 3 months ago

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anatomy of us (2) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader

type: limited series, part 2 (7.2k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.

series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, military criticism, protective!simon, dubcon (but reader does consent), possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+

PART 1

Tradition is not something you are fond of.

It’s something forced on you. When you question it, it’s offensive–how dare you question these things, made sacred over time? Why would you want to betray thousands of years of history? Time makes it definitive. Your being makes it natural. You submit because that is the natural thing to do, so in that sense, you submit to it all.

That is your duty. That is your calling. When you are claimed, you belong to them. You are property. Autonomy be damned–your place is on your knees, keeping your mouth shut, and any behavior against that is nothing short of a punishable offense, proper. Disobedient omegas make for troublesome households.

To keep you in line, you must be held at a short length from your alpha. It is what is done. It is what is expected.

Tradition.

Simon keeps a hand on you, curled at the base of your spine as he leads you back to where the sleeping quarters are. You know it’s for your protection, but the better part of you wants to smack him off of you whenever you feel his palm press just slightly against you. When you make it back into your room, Simon pauses in the doorway after he opens it for you. He looks nervous almost, sheepish. You turn to face him, looking him up and down. “You can come in if you want. I’m not gonna carry all my stuff by myself, you could probably carry a fucking tank looking at you.”

Simon finally comes inside, ducking his head a little to make it in. You know this room wasn’t meant to house an alpha, but it’s still startling to see him do it, taking up way too much space to be anything but claustrophobic. He watches as you pack your things, stuffing your clothes into your bags and picking up small trinkets around the bedside table and desk. After the bag starts to get heavy, you shove it into his arms as you look towards the bed. It’s a standard issue twin-sized, with barely enough sheets to keep you warm and a lumpy pillow that you hate. You make a face at it before turning around and putting more things into Simon’s arms as you empty the closet.

“Tha’ it?” Simon mutters, still able to peek over the mountain of items that he holds, and you shrug.

“That’s it.”

Simon’s own room is like a hospital room. It’s too clean–there’s nothing personal anywhere, no pictures or barely any clothes other than military issue fatigues. The only civilian clothes he has wouldn’t even make you think twice if you saw him in a bar–Simon will always look like a soldier, through and through, and his room stinks like it. It smells clinical, and nothing about it is cozy or warm. You stand in the middle of the room as Simon puts your things down. You ring your hands together nervously, eyeing the bed with one single, thin sheet on it. It’s too small of a bed for the both of you. It’s too small of a bed just for Simon–you don’t want to think about the kind of sleeping arrangements you’ll need to fit with him on it.

“Wot’s wrong?” Simon asks lowly. You look over your shoulder at him. He’s putting your things into the closet. He’s divided it in half already, and some of your clothes are already hung up next to his. You look back at the bed, pursing your lips.

“There’s not enough blankets,” you say softly. “A-And…And the pillows, here, I don’t like them.”

Simon turns back to your bag, picking up another shirt to hang. You glare at the back of him. It doesn’t do anything; he doesn’t erupt in flames like you might have hoped, but it does give you a moment to notice how well those jeans fit him.

Fuck. Keep it together.

“I’ll get you more blankets,” he shrugs. “And a different pillow.”

The answer is immediate. No fuss. You want to complain, to bite back at him for it, but you don’t know how you would explain your displeasure. You’re looking for a reason to tell your omega that she’s a scheming, hopeless, naïve little shit.

“...I don’t have to win you when y’r already mine.” Isn’t that what he had said? Isn’t that what he had said when he gripped you by the throat and made you realize that everything you had thought about alphas was true? Hadn’t he already shown you that none of them are redeemable?

Not Kate. Not John. Certainly not Simon–they’re all scheming, terrible fucking people, and you cannot wait until you can sink your teeth into Simon’s jugular and rip it out.

Belonging to, being one’s own, fuck if you care. Simon can claim ownership all he wants, but he’ll never tame you. Your omega might be pulling the strings at the moment, but you’re going through withdrawals, you think. Your medication was your lifeline. It kept you from falling off the tightrope, and you just need to learn how to stay upright without it. You can. When you get it back, when it’s in your hands again, she’ll understand.

She has to understand that only you know what’s good for you.

Simon places the rest of your things on his desk. A couple personal things, like your jewelry and some knickknacks, and then your bag with the rest of your clothes to be folded and put away. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath. At least before, you could pretend like things were still a little normal. You could pretend that in your own room, you were simply waiting for another assignment, that you were just waiting for Kate to give you a call and move you somewhere new, somewhere safer.

“Am I just supposed to stay here and wait for you?” You ask finally. Simon shuffles around the room. He doesn’t look at you; instead, he takes a seat at a desk way too small for him and spreads a few papers around, frowning when he reads something that he doesn’t like. “Is that…is that my job?”

“Dunno.” Simon takes his phone out of his pocket, and he starts typing. “Don’t really feel like babysittin’.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” you tell him. “I…I have combat experience. I was in training before this.”

Simon snorts, still focused on his phone. He shakes his head a little.

“Cute,” he mutters. “Tha’s cute.”

Patronizing shit.

“I bet I can shoot a target ten times better than you,” you spit at him. His fingers hover over the screen for just a moment, irritated, before he goes back to typing. “And I can hold my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Simon puts his phone back into his pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a deep breath before coming over to stand in front of you. You tip your head back, and he reaches down with a hand to cup under your jaw, holding you there. Just like that–your omega has you. You lean in, just that much. Simon sees it in your eyes, and he sniffs, looking you over.

Maybe he thinks you’re pathetic. In some sense, you agree with him, because what the fuck is wrong with me? You get one look into Simon’s eyes, and something chemical in you fires. You bend, and you relax, and you know if he asked you to open your mouth so he could spit in it, it would take a tremendous amount of effort to tell him no. It angers you and excites you all the same, and the conflicting flashes under your ribs bring tears to your eyes.

You hate yourself. You hate yourself for not being able to say no. You hate yourself for being everything they said you would be. You hate yourself for being nothing like you thought you were.

You’re soft. Sweet. All bark, no bite, a spiteful kitten that deep down, aims to please. The only thing that really baffles you, though, is why you only feel this way with Simon.

Is it because they told you that you were his mate? Is it because he’s done something, that he’s projecting some kind of scent? Has he already unknowingly changed your very makeup so your body knows that you are bound to him? When you look into John’s eyes, you see alpha. You see big, salivating dog, and if you could, you’d rip the hairs of his beard out just to see him in pain.

But Simon–it’s like you can’t move. Every time you look at him, and he looks at you, he holds you there. Just like now, he’s got you, and you feel like he can read everything you’re feeling. He’s being fed your secrets, and you hate him for it, but I can’t look away, please look away, please don’t make me–

“Need to get you somethin’ to eat,” Simon says finally. “And it’s time to meet the rest of the lot.”

Simon is starting to get used to keeping a hand on you. It annoys you a little, to feel his hand at your back, but the annoyance dissolves when you realize this base is filled with sneering alphas. They holler and yell, and they are very large and angry, but they still are small compared to Simon. They quiet whenever they walk past you, and even the whiff of omega doesn’t deter them with Simon behind you.

In the mess hall, you see Captain Price sitting at a table with two others. When you get closer to the table, you cough a little, stumbling back, and Simon catches you around the waist to hold you upright. The stench of alphas hits you like a truck, and Simon grunts as he tells you relax, fuckin’ hell.

You give him a hard stare–how the fuck would he know? There’s four alphas in your close vicinity, and they’re all puffing their chests and smiling, and it stings to smell them all at once. You turn your head a little to shield yourself, and when you filter everything else out but Simon, it frustrates you a little how much of him seems to calm you down.

Smells so good. Get closer. Press your nose to it, I-I want more–

“I see you two are getting along nicely,” John comments, leaning back in his chair. You roll your eyes a little, and when you lock eyes with him, you purse your lips and try to look anything but pleased. Simon guides you to sit down; he motions to the bench, just to the left of where someone else is already sitting–a big, burly soldier with crazy blue eyes. He has a terrible haircut, short along the sides with tufts of curls falling down the middle and over his forehead. He’s wiggling his eyebrows at his lieutenant behind you. Across from him, there’s another alpha with dark eyes and soft skin, and he’s smiling like an idiot around the rim of his plastic cup. You’re a little nervous–you had spent most of your time on your old base surrounded by betas who barely gave you a glance, and now you’re off your meds and being hit with a million different sensations everywhere you go. Simon’s touch on your back eases your shoulders a little.

“Tha’s Johnny,” Simon points to the one next to you. “Tha’s Gaz. ‘n I’m sure ya had the pleasure of our Captain.”

“Yeah, looks like your beard is still in tact, so glad to see it,” you say curtly, crossing your arms over your chest. The two sergeants laugh, ducking their heads, and John raises a brow before looking at Simon with a clenched jaw. Simon just shrugs, stretching his arm out on the back of your chair, and you get the feeling this happens often–John giving Simon that look, and Simon merely brushing it off. You smile to yourself a little, looking at Simon from over your shoulder. When you meet eyes, he stares back, looking over your face. He lingers on your lips for just a second too long before looking back up again.

I bet he tastes good under that mask. Let’s find out.

“Hungry?” He asks, and you blink. Your omega has never been inside of your head like this. You nearly opened your mouth and asked him for it, asked him please, please–let me taste, I won’t look, just let me taste you. You swallow her down a little, and you just nod to keep yourself moving. Simon stands up to make his way towards where the food is, and you watch curiously as instead of standing in line, he pushes open a door into the kitchen and disappears behind it.

“LT’s been gettin’ ye special meals,” Johnny says with a full mouth. You frown a little, and not just cause he’s chewing with his mouth a little too open.

“What do you mean?”

“He has the cooks make you somethin’ special,” Gaz says as he takes a sip of water. He leans back, smiling again, and it irks you a little. Alphas are brutes, disgusting big things with too many hormones, and you hate that this one gets to be pretty, too. Not that John or his sergeant aren’t attractive, but this one definitely enjoys a good mirror selfie, and it shows. “Something not on the menu. He didn’t like that you weren’t eating much, at the beginning. Made a fuss, and now he gets you better food.”

“He can do that?”

“Well, would ye say no to tha’ big man?” Johnny snorts, dipping his crusty bread in sauce. You look back towards the door, and Simon comes out holding a tray. He sets it down in front of you, and you bite your lip looking down at it. It smells so good, and you pick up your fork gently, sticking it into the pasta and twirling it. When you take a bite and sigh, Simon takes a seat next to you, and you can barely hear the sweet rumble in his chest of satisfaction.

Providing for you. Taking care of you. He’s so capable, isn’t he? Look at what he does for you.

If Simon notices you scoot closer to him, he doesn’t say anything. You don’t react either–it wasn’t a conscious choice.

Simon’s shower has hot water. Not that the showers you’d had were cold, but the communal showers were just that–communal. Shared, and although your escort always made sure you were the only one in there while you showered, it was still feeding off a water heater that always had barely any juice left. Lukewarm showers, so you tried to finish quick.

Simon’s shower turns the water scalding. You giggle with relief when you stand under it, letting it loosen your sore muscles and relieve your aching bones. It feels good, and you take a little longer in there, taking your time and enjoying the heat.

When it’s time to wash your body, you realize you’re missing your own soap. You look around for something else, noticing the unlabeled bottle that rests on a ledge. You squirt a pump of it into your palms, and when you raise it to your nose, your eyes flutter shut.

It’s the eucalyptus you smelled on Simon. A little plastic aftersmell, which you know is from whatever backwater dollar store the military buys it from, but on Simon, it smells so good. You lather it in your hands and hold it up to your nose, and you sigh deeply.

He’s just outside. Why don’t you call for him? I bet he’s listening. I bet he’s waiting for us.

You slide your hands down your arms. With the heat of the water, the whole bathroom starts to smell like it, and you let your hands slide down further, over your waist, between your thighs. When your fingers touch your puffy clit, you’re nearly jolted back into reality.

“Fuck–” You gasp, reaching for the level, shutting the water off. The last of the water curls down the drain, and you cough as you look around. You curl your toes, grounding yourself, and then you get out of the shower and reach for the towel. When you look into the mirror, your pupils are blown wide, and you feel like you don’t recognize yourself. You drop the towel and dress yourself, trying to keep your mind occupied with menial tasks.

Get your shit together.

When you open the bathroom door, Simon is back from his little errand he had run. He’s carrying a few blankets and a thick comforter, and there’s a few new pillows on the bed with it. You use the towel to keep drying the wet strands of your hair, and Simon turns around when he hears you walk in further.

You pass by him wordlessly as you reach the bed. You put your hands on the blankets that he put down, and you close your eyes when you feel how soft they are. Threaded cotton and fleece, lots of thick feathers in the comforter to make it nice and fluffy. When you turn to look over your shoulder, Simon does a terrible job of pretending like he wasn’t just staring at your ass in the little sleep shorts you’re wearing. You want to snap at him, but your omega pinches your tongue.

Take them off. Take them off. Take them off.

“So, what…” You clear your throat. “How are we supposed to sleep in that bed? T-Together?”

Simon tilts his head to the side. You start to despise the mask. You hate that you can’t tell what he’s thinking, not even a little, and after the rather joyous conversations you’ve had with Simon (barf), you can’t say you’re entirely excited to be in this close of a space with him.

“Don’t worry,” Simon murmurs. “I’ll be good.”

Oh, that totally makes you feel better.

Prick.

He makes you get into bed and turn facing the wall as he turns out the lights. He pulls at the edge of his mask uncomfortably, and you realize he doesn’t want you to see his fine. Fine, you think to yourself, throwing the sheets back with a huff, bet you’re fucking ugly mug would blind me anyways.

You cuddle under all the blankets, snuggling into the new pillow that sinks under your head. You hum gently, closing your eyes, and you aren’t able to see Simon rubbing his chest warmly as he watches you. He sucks on his teeth, not truly understanding what he feels, but knowing that it’s soothing the beast in him to take care of you.

It rattles him. Simon isn’t used to this. He’s not used to feeling like he doesn’t have control. He resisted this for so long. He tried so hard to fight, he said no to Kate over and over and over again.

Omegas to Simon were liabilities. To care was to have a target on your back. To be mated meant having something to lose.

Ask Price, is what he told her, ask the fuckin’ sergeants, anyone but me, but she wouldn’t hear it. It had to be him, it had to be, and then she locked him into a room with her, and she leveled with him.

She told him that you are special. That you are precious. That omegas like you don’t exist, that you are one in a single generation, and there isn’t anyone else in the world that will do except for him.

Price, married to the field. The sergeants, immature and might as well be titled barracks bunnies. But Simon–purebred, quiet, controlled. Terrified of himself and what he is. His unofficial pack that he defends with his entire being, that is the only alpha worth giving to you.

Kate had thought about it before. What it might be like to push the hair away from your neck and sink her teeth there. As easy as putting her signature to paper, she could have the CIA running laps to keep you protected, but she knew that wasn’t the life for her. It couldn’t be.

In every situation, Kate would have to choose that lesser evil, and in her world, it would mean her choice would unlikely be you.

Simon? Simon answered to no one. Unlike his sergeants, he cared little for authority; he wouldn’t blink twice saying no to his superior. Unlike his Captain, Simon didn’t mind choosing the bloody way out. He was the first with his finger on the trigger, and the last to sweep a room. Kate knew–if Simon had to choose between the greater good and the omega he claimed?

Fuck the greater good. That, she could count on.

If Kate only asked for one thing, it would be this. She did promise you. She promised she would keep you away from it all. She promised that she would make things right. She promised that she would protect you, but even Kate answers to others, and the reality of this kind of world is that the only way to really protect you was to give you away.

To put you into the same world that you had only begged to be kept away from.

Nobody likes playing matchmaker, but maybe putting together the most stubborn and angry people in the world might save you from yourselves. At least she hoped so.

You’re nearly asleep when you feel Simon come to bed. All the lights are off, and it’s pitch black in the room. There’s some shuffling around the room, and then you feel the blankets move. All of the sudden, a heat stronger than you’ve ever felt takes up the entire bed. Pressed against your back, a solid chest, and then a huge arm falls over your waist.

“We cuddling now?” You mumble sleepily, and Simon breathes out slowly, not responding. When you fall asleep, it’s unnervingly easy. Your omega purrs, digging her nails into you, and when you turn your head in the dark and feel the brush of his unmasked face against yours, she preens.

He’s right there–just a little taste. Just a little. Please, please, please–

Omegas cannot claim, but they can bite. It takes everything inside of you not to sink your teeth into him.

“You smell that? Smells like fuckin’ sweets, mates.”

You take off your headphones and safety glasses, looking over your shoulder. There’s a few recruits a few lanes down from you, wiggling their eyebrows and licking their lips. One of them crudely grabs his crotch, winking at you. You make a face.

Gross.

“Let me see you, baby. Smell so good.”

You holster the gun you’re holding, leaning against the counter with your hip. You raise a brow, tilting your head to the side.

“Are you done?” You ask, and they take that as their cue to start walking closer. An invitation.

They don’t get very far. You smell him before you see him. On instinct, your shoulders relax with that whiff of charcoal. You push off the counter just in time for him to come up behind you, and you feel the heat of his chest as it presses against your back. The recruits in front of you stop immediately, and you feel a disgusting sense of satisfaction when Simon bends over your shoulder to look at you.

“‘n wot’s this?” Simon growls. You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know. They wanna have a dick-measuring contest, but I think they’re afraid they’re gonna lose,” you say. You let out an annoyed sigh, turning again to put your safety glasses on. You put the headphones back over your ears and take the gun out of your holster, turning the safety off as you line it up with the paper targets near the back of the course. “You know. Cause my dick is way bigger.”

You unload the clip just for fun. You’re supposed to be practicing on accuracy, which for you meant slower, spaced-out shots to try and hit the same spot over and over, but the sound of the gun going off again and again helps distract you from the laughing, untrained dogs that are littered across the shooting range.

When you put the gun down after emptying the magazine, Simon is salivating. The paper target head is obliterated, each bullet almost next to its last. When you turn around, Simon tilts his head to the side. You holster the gun, starting to walk, and Simon lets his eyes drop to the sway of your hips as you pass by him. It’s not a conscious decision, the way his fingers curl into fists and squeeze hard.

“Told you,” you say to him. “Huge dick, right, baby?”

Something flares in Simon’s chest when he hears it. Like a switch, his legs start moving, following you, and when he passes by a recruit that is standing much too close to you, Simon shoves the recruit back so hard, they smack their nose against the wall and curses from the impact, blood dripping under their bruised nose.

The rest of the day, you don’t see another rookie walk even five feet into your vicinity. Even without a mark on your neck, you are claimed, and right before you leave your room for dinner, Simon is fitting a dark hoodie over your head. The smell overwhelms you. It’s soaked in his scent, and you turn to face him, looking at him suspiciously. Your omega keeps you from questioning him. She wants you to start walking, because she knows he’ll touch you when you do.

It’s that night that Simon asks John for you to join them. All Simon does is slide the shredded paper target across his desk. John picks it up, tacking it onto the wall. He chuckles, shaking his head. It’s an impressive piece of paper, but being a good shot isn’t the only reason someone is cleared to work with them. Even besides that, it’s forbidden.

“Omegas aren’t allowed in the field, Simon,” John reminds him. “You know that.”

“Think tha’s why we should take her,” Simon mutters. “She’s a distraction. A good one.”

“A weapon,” John frowns. He can already hear Kate screaming into his ear if she ever saw you geared up between them on an op.

“A tool.”

“And what does she think of that, eh?” John slips his hat off, tossing it onto his desk. He sighs, running a hand over his beard, and he shakes his head. “And Kate…Kate would hang my fuckin’ head.”

“Not Kate’s responsibility anymore, she’s mine,” Simon bites back. He knows it’s wrong. In all honesty, the sentiment tasted bad from the moment he said it to you, but it is easier to let you believe that he’s using you then try and make you understand him. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t get his reasons, and that’s fine, so if he has to be the bad guy, so be it.

The least he could do is make himself useful. Put your skills to work, poke your mind. See what you can really do.

“Don’t let your girl hear you talkin’ like that, Simon,” John says lowly. “Not her, and certainly not Kate.”

“But you agree,” Simon continues, chuckling lowly. “I speak for her. ‘n I think she’d be right in on it, Captain. Wot else is she to do, eh? Sit in my fuckin’ quarters and wait f’me? Wot kind of life is tha’? She needs this. She’s good. I can teach ‘er. She’ll learn. Well and good she will, I know it.”

John sniffs, running a big hand over his short hair before tapping a pen over the target paper on the wall.

“I need her OK,” John relents finally. “I need to hear it from her. I get that, I’m alright with it. But she has to know what she’s getting into, Simon. And no one but you is responsible for her. If she gets into something, I’m not gonna risk Soap or Gaz for it–”

“I know,” Simon mutters. “She’ll be my shadow. I’ll teach ‘er.”

She’ll be good. She’ll be good because she’s mine.

“Bravo-7, sitrep.”

“Eyes on target. Waiting on confirmation.” Simon looks over his shoulder for a moment, where you’re sitting as his cover. You look cute, he thinks. All geared up. He lets his eyes sweep over the cargo pants that are cinched around your waist. Your nice curves. Thick thighs. Fuck, you smell good, even with all the sand up his nose and the smoke clinging to his mask. You have your rifle tucked into your elbow, and you’ve got it aimed towards the door of the roof.

“Is it always so fucking hot?” You ask, running your wrist over your lip. You’re sweating; you can feel it dripping down the back of your neck and along your back. You’re wearing a lot of gear, but you’ve done this before, and you don’t remember it being so uncomfortable. It must be the climate–you’re not used to this kind of desert, and you need to get it together.

Despite the irritation you feel every time you look at Simon, your omega wants to please him. She wants to show him she can do this, that she’s capable, and you’re starting to not like that she’s behaving as if you and her are one and the same.

I’m in control. Shut the fuck up. Let me focus.

“Just watch the door,” Simon mutters, turning back to focus. He adjusts the scope of his rifle, taking a deep breath as he leans into the stock. He gets his target into his line of sight, and he narrows his eye a little more to watch the group more closely on the ground. It’s hard to ignore you. Normally, the person covering him goes almost unnoticed. Their scent never affects him, not enough to make him look away from his scope, but there’s something in the air way too close to him, and he scrunches his nose a little as he adjusts his position on the ground. “You stink, by the way.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. “Not my fault.”

“Certainly is y’r fault.”

“You reek, too, you ass,” you mumble, wiping your forehead again. You adjust how you’re sitting, clearing your throat. It’s scratchy, and you’re starting to itch a little all over, too. “Like wet dog.”

Simon smiles under his mask. He keeps his index finger next to the trigger, and you keep yours on it.

“How much longer do we have to do this? I mean…I thought you were SAS. Don’t you guys…get your hands real dirty? I mean, don’t you go tearing doors down? Get a lot of action? I mean, we’re just sitting ducks on a roof here right now.”

“Wot, you wanna go kick some doors down now?” Simon asks. He shakes his head. “The real job is boring. We do things nice and clean, we only get dirty when we ‘ave to. If I can get a target from 1000 yards away, then tha’s wot I’ll do. Besides. This is wot I’m good at.”

“Yeah, you look real good there on your knees, honey.”

Simon blinks hard when something strong hits his nose. It stings, makes his eyes water. He coughs a little, dropping his head for a moment.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Simon hisses. “Wot the fuck is wrong with ya?”

“I-I don’t know,” you whisper. You take your hand off your rifle for a moment to adjust the collar of your shirt, but it doesn’t help. You shift a little, loosening your tactical vest. You want to take it off, but you know that’s a bad idea out here. It’s hard to think clearly, though, when your brain is cloudy and you’re starting to see things in double every so often. “It’s…it’s too hot.”

Simon huffs, “‘n when was the last time you had a heat?”

“I’ve…I’ve never.” You clear your throat. “I’ve never had one.”

Can you smell him? I can smell him. He smells so good.

Simon nearly leaves his post. He grips his rifle tight, gloved hands squeezing the metal, and he turns to look at you incredulously.

“Fuckin’ repeat tha’?”

“I know you’re blind and dumb, but don’t tell me you’re fucking deaf, too,” you mumble. You swallow, wiping your face again, and Simon presses on the radio on his shoulder.

“Bravo-7 to Bravo-6, how long do we got?”

“Just observation on target for now. Why?”

“Need 10 minutes.”

Simon shuts off the radio. You blink, starting to see double pretty consistently now, and you take a shaky breath as you grip your rifle a little tighter. You hear shuffling behind you, and you look back to see Simon moving from his position.

“What are you doing? Simon–”

“Get over ‘ere.” Simon sets his rifle down. “Tha’ wasn’t a fuckin’ suggestion, tha’ was an order!”

There’s something different in his voice at the end. Something more animal that lilts his drawl, and it makes you coherent enough to start moving–like his voice made all the fog clear up for just a few moments, long enough for you to realize you need him.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

You put your rifle down, crawling over to him, and just as you stumble, Simon catches you. You put your hands on his shoulders, falling into his lap, and he hoists you up until you’re straddling him. You feel him starting to tug on your cargos, and even in your daze, you squeeze his shoulders.

“S-Simon? What are you…What are you doing?”

“Y’r gonna go into heat soon,” Simon mutters. Alarm bells go off in your head, and you dig your nails into his shoulders. He can see it clearly–the panic on your face.

“H-Heat? R-Right now?”

“Not right now,” Simon clicks his tongue. “More like a…pre-heat. Get y’r bloody pants off–”

When Simon tugs your cargos down enough, you gasp when you see the mess your panties are in. They’re soaked, drenched until the cotton is a darker color, sticking to your cunt, and you whimper as Simon tugs you back into his lap with your pants around your ankles. It’s awkward and messy, and you’re sweating bullets, hot and bothered, and your chest feels tight. There’s nothing romantic about it, nothing sweet about the way Simon turns you in his lap. It’s hurried, but you’re just as desperate, clawing to whatever piece of him you can touch and trying to sink into him. If you could, you’d pry him open and force yourself to tuck yourself inside of him. You want to live there forever. You want to be in his skin, soaking it all in–you want it. You want this, don’t you?

He’s touching us! He’s touching us! Let him in!

“W-What’s happening t-to me?”

“‘s olright,” Simon whispers in your ear. “I’ve got ya. There we are…” He cups your pussy, making you squirm. You jolt in his lap, throwing your head back against his shoulder, and he hums as you sink into his touch. Something inside you curls and lights on fire. Your vision blurs, and his scent surrounds you. “Oh…fuck…tha’ wot ya needed, swee’eart? Yeah…”

Yes! Yes! Yes!

“Simon–” Your back arches, and you push your hips into his hand. When he touches your clit, your omega seizes inside your head, and it’s a feeling like you’ve never felt before.

She takes the reigns; and God, does she fucking pull.

You palm at the zipper of his pants. There’s something there, something you want–and you need it. There’s something in your chest that blinds you, that familiar voice in your head that chants–take it out, take it out, take it out.

“‘m workin’ on it, love,” you hear from behind, and you realize you’re talking. You’re out of your body, you think. You’re not yourself. When you feel him in your daze, big and throbbing under your hand, you whine. It comes from deep within your chest, a bubble of nonsense, and Simon coos. He drags your hips closer, and his cock slips under you, between your folds, and you use your palm to keep him pressed to you. You can’t see him, but you felt him when you first met him, and you’re feeling him now.

If there was any doubt that he was anything but an alpha, that thought disappears when his fat tip kisses your clit. He’s hot and throbbing under your hand, and he is more than enough to appease the voice in your head that’s screaming for some kind of inherent relief that it knows he can give.

“Simon, I need it–I need it–”

“I know, love.”

Fuck, Simon would win any dick-measuring contest, you think. Barely the tip of him, and you’re baring your teeth, gripping his thighs and digging your nails into him as you try and breathe through the stretch. He’s not even fully hard yet; the blood is rushing to his cock, and you moan and cry as he sits you down further and further and further–

“What the fuck–what is it you have in your fucking pants, a-a fucking pipe–?!”

“Y’r so much prettier when y’r mouth ain’t runnin’,” Simon mutters. “Ahh–fuck–’s mine, oll mine–”

You put your hands on his knees and throw it back. You’re feral, brain foggy, and all you can think about is getting yourself off. Your body clings to Simon like a thick, curling vice, pussy clamping around him and taking him to the root. You’re dripping down your thighs, wetting his cargos, and you’re thankful that he’s wearing black, otherwise you can’t think about the mess you’d really be leaving on him. The sounds are lewd. Frantic smack, smack, smack against his thick thighs, and the sound is only making you drool for more. He’s so big. He’s hitting you deep, and you swear your insides have never been stretched this far, but it’s like your body is molding itself to fit him. Like you’re making room for him.

It’s so good. It feels right. Your omega growls like an animal, crying with relief. It’s the only thing she’s ever wanted, and she has it in her hands, and she licks at your scent gland until it practically vibrates. Simon’s face is pressed to it, like he can hear her calling. His mask is the only thing separating you, but you can feel his teeth straining against the fabric. They cut over the gland, wet like his tongue is poking against it, too, and your omega screams.

Bite me, bite me, bite me.

“Not yet,” Simon grunts. “Won’t take.”

“You’ll make it take.”

He laughs, and then he punches the air out of you with a nice thrust. Then he’s on you. Suddenly, you’re on your knees, your tummy against the sandy rooftop, with a stallion of a soldier on top of you, taking you like his last meal.

He sounds like more bear than man. Growling, spitting, both hands on either side of your head as he fucks you into the floor. There’s a smile on your face, soft relief that leaves you in your pretty moans and gurgled pleas. It feels so good. The tip of his cock curves and hits against the same place each time, sending pulses that rack your body over and over and over again. Your thighs are shaking, and then Simon slips one hand under you and cups your pussy, fitting it just right until you can grind down on his palm in perfect timing with the way the fat tip of him hits you just well enough. It should hurt. You’ve never taken anything so big–of course you’ve practiced, but nothing can prepare you for the real thing.

This is still practice. You’re not in your heat, not really, and Simon hasn’t lost his fucking mind yet.

Like a fiend, you chase it. The stars, the mountain to climb, the beautiful end. You get up a little more onto your knees and you wrap a hand around his neck, force him against your jaw. You goad him on with pretty words, soft moans–that’s it, right there, please.

It’s not his first time. It’s not his first time relieving an itch he can’t scratch, and it’s not his first time taking an omega by the neck and pounding into her until she can’t speak, but it’s the first time his resolve shatters.

He wants to bite. He’s never felt the urge to bite. If it wasn’t for the mask, his teeth would be an inch deep in your neck, and he’d be memorizing what your blood tasted like for the first time. Your scent is just that much off that he knows it isn’t the right time, but fuck–the need is there. It’s clear.

Special. One of a kind. No one like her. Soft. Sweet. Mine.

His knot swells a little, but it doesn’t lock. You’re not in a proper heat, so it’s not right just yet, but you can feel the edge of it, like the preface to a glorious poem. Thick and spongy, hot, and when he comes, your eyes roll back in your head. It feels like being thirsty for days on end and finally getting that sweet drink of crystal clear water. He pumps you full, creamy and thick and dribbling between your thighs as you squeeze them together. Subconsciously, you’re trying to keep it inside, and Simon groans when as he latches his mouth over your scent gland under the mask and sucks–so hard, it pinches you just right.

The stars align. The tide wanes. You mumble softly, dopey smile on your face, and when your own high hits you, and you’re squirting into his hand, you let his rumbling, low voice pull you back to earth.

“I ‘ave ya, swee’eart,” he says. “Shhh…easy, kitty…Shh…yeah, easy.”

You sigh with relief. Simon handles you with ease. He picks you up, gets you to sit back on your heels. You don’t see it, but Simon fits his wet fingers under the mask, and you keen when you hear him suck on his fingers and hum.

He likes us. Hear that? He likes us.

“Want you to eat me,” you giggle suddenly, and Simon wipes you down, picking your pants back up and zipping them. He pats your ass gently, smoothing a hand over the back of your neck. He knows you’re still in a different headspace. He knows there’s still something else drawing your breath, but he’s trying not to think about it too much. It sounds so much like you.

“Do plenty o’tha’ when we’re in the thick o’it, kitty.”

Back in the humvee, Johnny is smiling like an idiot. He’s sitting next to Kyle, hitting him with his elbow as he wiggles his eyebrows at you and Simon sitting across from them. You tilt your head to the side, glaring.

“What?” You snap, and Johnny cackles. His eyes are flashing, and he reeks like happiness.

“Smells like ye had fun.”

“My gun is loaded, shithead,” you warn him. “And I know how the fucking safety works.”

When Johnny moves to sit in the front near your captain, you try not to think about the sudden warmth over your knee, and the squeeze of Simon’s hand on you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!ghost #dark!simon

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gojoscinnamonroll · 3 months ago

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mdni under the cut •

best friend! sukuna who sneaks into your room through your window uninvited as you’re watching some random comedy show in the middle of the night to “hang out”.

(well.. actually, he isn’t your best friend. he’s really your boyfriend, but your parents don’t approve of your relationship with him, so you have to keep things secret.)

best friend! sukuna who scares you by slamming your window open and jumping in with a “what’s up idiot” as you jolted in your bed and gave him a piercing glare.

“sukuna! what on earth are you doing!!” exasperating and clutching your chest as if you were about to have a heart attack. “if my parents hear or see you here, its game over for the both of us.”

best friend! sukuna who honestly does not care because you’re his girlfriend so he will simply come see you whenever he pleases. and in this time of the night, he needs you right now. “oh nothing too crazy” he looks at his nails with a teasing smirk, “just wanted to see how my little brat is doing that’s all.” as he walks over to your plushie filled, silk, comfy bed and takes a seat.

best friend! sukuna who pretends to be interested in whatever show you’re currently watching as he slides his huge and veiny hands up your thighs and into your pajama shorts.

you began protesting, “kuna, we could be caught this isn’t a good i-“ your breath hitched as he starts rubbing circles with his thumb over your clit.

“lock the door then girl.” rolling his eyes.

best friend! sukuna who pushes your shorts to the side, revealing your pretty puffy folds to his enamored eyes and licks a long stripe down your slit, making you slightly whimper— teasing you with his tongue and middle finger until he softly grabs you by the ankles and tells you to get face down ass up for him.

best friend! sukuna who pumps his thick cock a few times before slowly pushing himself into your sopping wet cunt and letting out a low groan. he’s thrusting in and out of you being careful at first, so that your parents don’t suspect anything, but the way you were gripping around his monstrous dick had him going insane and began fucking into you deeper, teasing your g-spot.

“su- mmph fuck!” becoming cock drunk off of him, tongue lolling out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. and your sly little boyfriend — best friend knowing what exactly you like and how to make you feel good, kept thrusting all the way into you to make you moan as loud as you can on purpose then taunting you, “shhh, you wouldn’t your father to know his sweet little girl is getting her guts rearranged by the boy she’s not supposed to be messing around with, now would you?” devilish grin creeping onto his lips.

best friend! sukuna who’s favorite thing is fucking you dumb on his cock to the point you’re seeing white and can’t conjecture a single thought, but still littering sweet praises in your ear such as, “you’re such a good girl, taking this dick mhm”, “fuck! you’re so tight for me.” “you feel so good gripping around me like that.”

best friend! sukuna who shoots ropes of hot cum into you just as you come undone on him still inside of you, legs beginning to shake. “oh hoho, silly girl… i’m not done with you just yet.” laying you down on your back to stuff his mess back into you with his still hardened length.

best friend! sukuna who loves fucking you full of his seed as he looks into your eyes while he’s on top and cupping your cheeks as lewd noises come from beneath you both.

best friend! sukuna who milks you of everything you got, on the brink of crying from overstimulation and how hard you were about to orgasm. “c- i’m gonna cummmm ‘kuna!”

best friend! sukuna who licks the shell of your ear and leave open mouthed kisses on your jaw as he tells you to let go and cum all over his cock like the filthy slut good girl that you are.

best friend! sukuna who cleans you up with a towel he got from your closet and leaves sweet, loving kisses on your temples as you two cuddle and fall asleep together in each other’s arms in your bed.

best friend! sukuna who wakes up at 6am to leave before your parents wake up and gives you a goodbye/good morning kiss before he exits through your window.

best friend! sukuna and you who thought you two were slick and pretty sure that your parents wouldn’t suspect anything ever happened the previous night.

until you walk into the kitchen for breakfast to your parents asking what all the noise was coming from your room last night and asking where the marks on your neck came from.

oops…

likes + reblogs appreciated <3 please don't steal/copy/modify my works!

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soleilapproves · 4 months ago

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Play fighting with Boxer!Sukuna

Note: Reader is referred to as girlfriend at one point.

Masterlist

“Babe.”

“Not right now.”

“Babe.”

“Sukuna, I promise I’ll be done with this book soon.”

He huffed and fell back onto the couch. He had been trying to get your attention for the past 30 minutes but you were adamant on finishing your book. This is all the fault of that damn community book club your coworker recommended you join. Now whenever, you’re off work and Sukuna doesn’t have to train, you’re reading. Usually the two of you spent almost all your spare time together but now you spent half of it reading your newest book for your weekly discussion. You always did your best to spoil him with kisses and cuddles but it was never enough.

Book club be damned, he needed you to be superglued to his side every single second.

“My girlfriend has a side man and he’s made of paper,” he huffed to himself as he watched you intently read. What was so great about your book anyway? Was it worth ignoring your gorgeous (and shirtless) boyfriend? He even had a tattoo of your name on his left pec and you were still choosing to smother a book with your attention.

Sukuna’s wallowing turned him creative- he stood in front of you, trying to make sure your guard was down. You didn’t look up which meant that you were still engrossed in your book. His hand swooped in and swiftly snatched the book from you. “Sukuna,” you groaned. “Give it back, I was at a good part.” You got up to grab it from him but he raised it above his head. “Kiss me.” You glared at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Done, now give it.”

“No,” he nonchalantly replied. “But I kissed you.” You wondered why he was being particularly irritating today.

“That was me begging for a morsel of your attention. Now cuddle me if you want it,” he said and cheekily smirked.

You ignored him and hopped trying to get your book. Sukuna simply dodged your sad attempts and laughed every time you missed. “I don’t even know why you’re trying.” You gave him a pointed look at his comment.

“Okay, fine, you can have your book if you beat me in a fight.”

“What? That makes no sense.” You couldn’t believe this man. “It seems like a fair challenge to me,” he said as he walked to a particularly high shelf and placed your book on top of it. “You know I can just use my stepping stool for that, right?” you said before scoffing at him.

“Then it’s a good thing I hid it.” His sarcastic smile was now pissing you off. “But you literally fight for a living. You have the upper hand.”

“I’m in love with you. Use that as a distraction. Come on, let’s go to the ring.” You were speechless as he dragged you to the fighting “ring” (also known as your bedroom).

Since you had a smaller frame than him, he agreed to let you have the first hit. You sighed and braced yourself. You didn’t have much of a strategy except for charging at him with such a high speed that he’d fall on the bed and would accept defeat.

But as soon as you were in close distance, he caught both your arms, turned you around and threw you on the bed. He didn’t give you a second to get up before he straddled you. “Haha!” he exclaimed. Seeing you all riled up underneath him was a sight he was used to but it never failed to awe him.

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked as he began to lower himself to face you. “This is so unfair! You’re like 200 pounds, I can’t even move you,” you said as you tried to push him off. Sukuna grabbed your hands that were fighting him and he playfully wrestled them. Who knows what would’ve happened if he used his real strength.

Thank goodness for your quick thinking because you remembered that Sukuna was extremely ticklish so you pulled your hand out of his grasp with all the strength you could muster up and started poking his sides. “Babe!” he yelled before toppling over to his side. It was your turn to straddle him and before you could pin his arms beside his head, he caught yours and pulled you down to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. Your cheeks were mushed against the very tattoo of your name.

You were literally stuck in one position. The more you tried to move the tighter he’d hold you. “Sukuna, you cheater. Why do I always do this to myself?” You sighed, accepting defeat.

Sukuna kissed your forehead and laid you both on your sides, still not letting you go. “Sweet, sweet victory,” he whispered to himself.

-•-

I need to be (lovingly) smothered by a beefy nerd. Someone like Clark Kent.

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screampied · 11 months ago

Note

JJK men reaction to us saying it’s impossible to make us orgasm/cummm? 🥹

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ SLUT STRETCH ME OUT ! ’﹒⺡

gojo & geto, toji, sukuna, choso

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, backshots, praise, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling, gojo and geto eating you out at the same time, choking, overstim, squìrting, daddy kink, díck slipping, mdni.

✰ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“fuck are you even talkin’ about.” toji scratches his head, watching as you straddle his lap. you had a mere pout go against your lips before struggling to get your words out. his voice pitches, a deep and rough low. needless to say it turned you on, quite more than you thought it would. “speak up. don’t like when ya mumble.”

“i’m serious,” you chastise, eyebrows sweetly furrowing. “no guy’s ever made me um— finish.”

toji had an unreadable expression, your breath hitches once he grips your hips before giving you an intimidating stare. “riiiiiight,” and he’s clearly not taking you serious. if anything, toji finds it insulting. you nearly moan, scooting up against his lap just to feel his bulge prod underneath your shorts. “and i’m a virgin,” he scoffs underneath his breath—you gasp, watching as he makes you turn around, facing the opposite way. your chest hits against the soft padded mattress before he trails a hand up your ass. “we can fix that problem right now, princess. just watch me.”

“how?”

“how?” he mocks your tone. “don’t ask stupid questions,” he spanks your ass, and you moan from the sheer recoil. for a split second, it tickles. yet that’s when he softly caresses the palm of his hand against his skin and you bite your lip once you suddenly feel the plump tip of his dick graze against your slick entrance. “now now, bend that ass over ‘n i’ll show ya how. how ‘bout that, girl.”

he was so mean, so sassy too. the air around you grew so thick. it made your toes curl, just knowing toji’s eyes was leering towards your rear the entire time. “good girl. like that. ass up ‘n face fuckin’ down,” and embarrassingly enough, you were already so soaked. sopping right through your pretty panties. he gets ahold of your ass, making it scoot up high before seconds later he’s deepening himself into you. “mhmm,” he grunts, feeling your warmth swallow him whole. toji’s cock was so thick, the hefty girth— you could feel your tongue start to shamelessly salivate. “no one’s really made ya orgasm, princess?”

“n— no,” you whine, feeling your slick coat him from all the way down to his base. your legs spread just a bit, and he’s just about halfway in before your lips part, forming into a cute 'o'. “think it’s some kind of scientific—”

“okay girl don’t piss me off,” toji grits, and once he’s finally in, a single thrust was just enough to send you straight over the edge. you kneeled on the bed, the right sight of your cheek presses against the sheets before you moan. “ain’t nothing scientific about this. y’er gonna have an orgasm. just trust me.”

you mewl each time he gives you a spank, a mean spank that merely rings throughout your ears. toji’s thick cock brushes against your entrance, and once he starts up a pace— it’s over.

toji’s pace, his movements . . it was simply delicious.

such sloppy rude hips smacking into you, you’re barely even clinging onto the bed by this point. your back is arched and by this point you’re being fucked against your own mattress. it was always known, whenever toji fucked… he fucked hard.

he loved you, but his striking disrespectful hips always said otherwise. this entire angle was purely amorous. this was always his favorite point of view, you with your ass all up, face being pummeled into the whitened silky sheets. everytime, you start to whine once you felt toji deepen his hits just a bit further. so good that he leans up directly close to you. the back of his foot prods against your neck and you feel his sock rub further down against your skin— the cottony wool that runs behind the back of your head sends you chills.

“t-tojiiiii, fuckkk,” you’d whimper, feeling him literally fuck you with his foot just resting against the back of your head. he was so lazy.. so lazy and yet you never failed to throb from it everytime.

“that’s not my name when ‘m deep inside this nasty cunt, girl. let’s try that again.” he gruffs lowly.

“fucking..” you grumble, cutting yourself off. he always found your attitude to be so amusing. toji leans up close, a hand wrapping around your neck as he’s still pounding such thick inches into you, ruthlessly. “daddy, think ‘m gonna cum. i—i feel it.” you spat, cutely wriggling your hips against him.

such a cute whiney voice, his length stretches so deep within you that it makes your eyes roll and roam everywhere. he’s just gifting you with hit after hit. your jaw just drops down the moment your left leg starts to profusely twitch.

once a sudden wave of nerves bundle and brew up inside you, you whine out a sweet, “oh my g-godddd,” whilst he’s still maneuvering plenty of circles against your pussy. you’re just here, arched over, bent over for toji fushiguro like some slut. his slut.

“good girl,” he huffs out, slowing down a bit. “relax for me, yeah. shut that mouth ‘n listen to how sloppy this pussy gets just for me. all for me.”

those two weak legs of yours, they felt like mush. shakey and just utterly useless. he spanks your ass a final time before he rubs tender circles against your throbbing sopping pussy that’s just barely getting over its recent euphoric release.

“she’s got so much to fuckin’ say, listen to her with me,” he whispers, using the entirety of his wrist to rub between your legs— he’s still plugged into your cunt with his shaft, yet he’s multitasking by playing with your pussy. you whine, your legs trembling in arousal and he just lowly chortles.

“awww. no back talk now, huh?” he purrs before playfully tugging your hair back, leaning to lick a long stripe down your neck. “exactly what i thought. can’t fuckin’ orgasm my ass.”

✰ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“hm? never orgasmed before huh? greedy fuckin’ girl. ‘n here i’m thinking my fingers was just enough for you.” sukuna teases and you’re just speechless. he’s holding them up for you with the most cunning grin plastered on his face.

you moan, feeling him sink two thick pairs of digits into your slick heat. he sneaks a chaste kiss near your inner thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, savoring the sweetened taste. “kuna that’s not what i mean— i just, i want you to make me finish.”

“nah. don’t try ‘n correct me, little girl,” he grouses. “you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your thighs twitch, “but fine. if you wanna orgasm that bad, i’ll give it to ya.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit.

your sheeny lips part and part from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out, lapping you up so sloppy like— his lips latch and lock against your folds and your eyes just roll all the way back, wayyyyy back into the depths of darkness that your skull provided. he was so filthy, he just couldn’t help it.

you kiss your teeth freely, feeling his two fingers vigorously insert deeply. in and out, in and out. he’s prodding against that spot repeatedly again and again. it was nothing but a mere sight, all of the stimulation combined had you tongue tied and cross eyed.

“f-fuckkk, ‘kuna— sukuna.”

“shut the fuck up ‘n give me that orgasm, woman,” and your head gets all fuzzy— he’s so mean, giving your cunt even more various spanks, the palm of his hand is coated in nothing but your wet arousal and it’s so cute. “i gotta spank again ‘n again just to have you finish on me?”

“don’t tell me what to d— do.” you protest.

“last time i checked, i know how to make myself cum…. unlike someone,” he grunts with a menacing glare. it was so unintentionally sexy.

his cruel eyes stare right into yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy. a wet long glob trickles down and it’s so messy, he’s so messy.

he runs his middle finger down your slit and his eyes never once leaves your cunt— not even for a moment, a split second even. you meet eye contact again and as you hold the bottom of his chin, his fangs poke out. sukuna’s entire chin was covered with nothing but your sweet wetness. he laps it up slowly with his tongue, making sure you watch his every move before going back to plant a kiss against your throbbing entrance.

your were so close, never once staying still. you just squirm and squirm. gradually, you felt something start to unhurriedly build up—you couldn’t exactly pinpoint the feeling…. however, both of your ears started to burn up hot, electricity’s pulsing through you all at once. “i feel something s-sukuna.”

“course ya are” he hums cockily with a low raspy laugh following shortly after. once you wrap a hand around his length, you moan once he smears his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your pulsating entrance. “messy little girl. so eager ‘n all just for me. can’t help but be nasty for me, huh.” and within quick moments, he already feels himself starting to bottom out. sukuna groans, feeling you selfishly swallow him up and it’s so warm. immensely, your walls grip around him tightly and you feel yourself reaching a specific shock waving peak. “let this pussy make a mess on me, don’t gotta be shy,” he hums. “it’s just you ‘n me here, girl.”

not only do you orgasm— you end up squirting all over him too. it comes out in a quick spray, and it’s so much that your maw drops and your eyes become insignificantly droopy.

it’s so adorable, at least in the curses eyes. sukuna barely gave you a few of his rigorous thrusts before you’re already losing yourself, your hearing turns into complete white noise. “o—oh my goddd.” you’d sob out, and he smirks.

sukuna gives you a chaste kiss, only to quickly pull away to teasingly lick against your bottom lip. “nasty little girl. didn’t no one tell you to fuckin’ squirt on me.”

“s— sorry,” you moan, feeling yourself still continuously throb. your orgasm took nearly everything out of you, you were panting and you watch him kiss you again and again, tasting the own flavor of yourself on his tongue. he pulls away, his pearly white fangs playfully biting near your lip before he brushes a thumb against your lip.

“that’s not what i wanted you to say, girl.” he rasps.

your body felt so tingly, for a moment you’re confused before you slump forward into his chest. “i— thank you?”

“and?”

“i love you, sukuna.”

“i love you too, brat,” he breathes, and as a thumb of his strums against the top of your lip, he snarls lowly, staring right into your eyes before squeezing your lips together. “now open your mouth. i want you to be more of a messy girl ‘n taste yourself some more. say ah.”

✰ SATORU GOJO & SUGURU GETO

“guys i’m not joking,” you protest between your words two best friends. you lie against between the two of them, basically sandwiched them both before a cute pout forms against your spit-glossed lips. “i literally can’t orgasm. i read somewhere ‘n think it’s genetic or something.”

geto chuckles. “genetic, hm?”

gojo leans near you to press a kiss against your neck.

“mmm. maybe you just haven’t found the right guy to do it right,” and you moan once gojo trails a hand down to part between your legs. “ooh i know. how ‘bout you let me ‘n sugu try to fix that with our tongues? maybe that’ll help.”

“for once, satoru doesn’t have a dumb idea.”

“shut up, man.”

once you tell them to go ahead, you suddenly found yourself being laid flat.

you mewl out a sweetened whimper, your ass raised all up in the air. geto runs a thumb down the slick part of your entrance before lapping his tongue against your cunt. his technique was always so filthy, eating you out like a starved man.

his tongue, it was so lengthy—you felt it skim all throughout your folds, occasionally sucking against your clit. your entire body tremors before you feel gojo lean in to slide his tongue against your puckering neglected hole. “so greedy. takin’ us both, right pretty girl?”

you whine at geto’s words, feeling the sensations of both of them eating you out— at the same time too, one focusing their attention towards your clit, another towards your ass. gojo moans, warm breath fanning against you before he repeatedly delves his tongue inside. he was so sloppy, breaking his lips away on occasion to spit before lapping it up for a final time. over and over, geto’s flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub for the umpteenth time and your body immediately starts to quaver. it felt too good, extremely. your mouth starts to grow dry and your toes just curl up with such quickness.

“f— fuckkk,” you’d sob out, wriggling your ass against geto’s face and he just snickers. he kisses the fat of your ass with a smack from his palm, and you moan. pretty soon, your thighs start to ache and you were merely drooling. “don’t s-stop, keep going pleaseeee.”

“taste so sweet,” gojo huffs out in frantic breaths, still running his pink tongue against your rim. you don’t think you’ve ever experienced something as lewd as this before—especially with the two of your best friends. the three of you fooled around a bit, practically inseparable, maybe occasionally eating you out every once and a while … but this? not by a mile.

geto smiles, already so pussy-drunk. your slick coats near the very bottom of chin—gifting it with your sweet wetness. how generous, as his tongue mindlessly hovers against your cunt, he gives it another long suck. each flick against your nub made you start to see stars— it was apparent, you were practically numb, although, you started to feel it. a sudden incoming wave approaching at a high chasing speed. you weren’t sure what it was but it was oddly unfamiliar.

“you’re being stingy, sugu,” gojo grumbles, shoving his best friend aside before rolling his tongue against your cunt also— you were just soaked, you heard a single slurp from gojo’s mouth and you had just about had it. a rippling tingle emerges, and static just pours right out of your hot-tempered ears. your orgasm was so cute, it was a mere squeak.

whilst you dissolve into pleasure, succumbing to whatever lewd voice that had you in a tight chokehold— geto’s still dragging his tongue against your clit before he turns toward gojo. “i’m the stingy one?” and right before gojo could reply with something snarky, he leans in and kisses gojo.

he moans, kissing back right away. the pure taste of your honeyed slick that ran down both of their chins, they tasted it. geto snickers, watching gojo suddenly form into a puddle, such an easy pushover. while they kissed, he pulls away before going back towards your cunt, spitting on it before pulling gojo’s head close to make out with him again— they both lock lips while fighting over over your cunt.

“s-suguru, ‘toru—” you’d moan, the arch in your back never subsiding.

“kiss me again, sugu—”

“no, satoru. this is about out girl. not you.”

“hmph, don’t gotta be so rude.”

✰ CHOSO KAMO

“you—you can’t orgasm either?” choso says with a sweet look of surprise. he has a genuine reaction, dark pools of eyes staring into you as you’re just barely hovering over his leaky tip. “thought it was just me.”

“really?” you murmur, not expecting that to be his reaction. choso had the cutest expression plastered on his face. he was sweating, a plethora of sweat droplets race down his bare chest before he clings onto your waist. with a nod, he skims his eyes down towards your body before shyly darting away. “you’ve never had a orgasm?”

choso replies in a timid tone, a weak grin forming on his lips. “no. that’s … kinda why i was gonna ask if we could make each other finish together,” and his face turns completely flushed—it’s adorable. “of course i-if you want to. i just … just wanna make sure you’re feeling good too ‘n not just me.”

you lean in to kiss near his cheek and he moans just from the simple touch. a sweet mewl departs from his lips, and once you gradually make your way onto his hardened length, he sighs deeply.

“let’s do it together then, baby,” and choso’s droopy eyes stare at you once more. it’s cute, he swallows thickly before feeling you slowly bury his cock right into your gripping walls. you lean in to plant a wet kiss near the crook of his neck before you started to move. “hey, look at me.”

“i— i don’t like when you call me baby,” he pouts, feeling you start to create a rhythmic pace. your hips moved so slow against him, pretty soon choso’s dark irises started to roll swiftly in harmony. “it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s cute,” you tease, rocking back and forth. everything felt like an illusion—just being engulfed in your wet heat, it was a dream. choso couldn’t even try to suppress the lewd moan that leaves his lips each and every single time. “you’re even more louder than me, baby.”

“shut up, ‘s not t-trueee,” and his words briefly drag before you quicken the movement of your hips by default. choso’s sat manspread, and he’s just about to lose it. your pussy grips against him tightly, and it’s so good that he’s huffing out white breaths of air each time. “y—you’re such a,” and he pauses before groaning. his left thigh starts to bounce, a cute attempt at trying to keep up with your pace and that’s when he feels his dick pound into you again and again. thwacking, it became repetitive, he’s captured in a hypnotic trance all because of your hips. “love how you fuck me s-so good, pretty girl.”

you continue to pepper his twitching mouth with kisses, and his hands roam up your waist before pulling you back against him.

“c—chosooo,” you’d hum out, although in comes out sounding like a soft purr. you were perfect in his eyes, even your smell. it was simply enchanting, so sweet. your perfume wafts against his noise before within seconds later the crown of his cock meets that particular spot. “do you— do you feel it too?”

“i feel it baby, ‘m gonna cum i— i think,” and he sounds unsure, his voice was so shaky and he holds you right into his arms. his warm embrace, choso’s breathing patterns became quaky, it was so cute. how his naturally low voice pitched, a fiery pools into the lower depths of your abdomen as you grind against him at a much more fast tempo.

choso’s jaw then abruptly tightens once his dick ends up slipping out of your cunt — he pouts, his tip now smearing against your cunt before he freezes and before he realizes, he’s already cumming, hard. “o-oh shit.”

even his swears were cute, choso grunts the moment his now flaccid dick sprays the entrance of your pussy with stringy ropes of his cum. velvety ropes, he’s feeling a spring coil tightly and you ended up following shortly afterward.

you moan, grinding against his now soft shaft that was just laid underneath, not even plugging you inside anymore—you shut his moans up with a simple candied kiss. choso trembles, parting his lips before gripping your ass. each moan that escapes from his lips sounded even more pretty and melodic.

once choso breaks away, a pretty sheeny cobweb of spit departs from his lips and yours. you watch as he brings a hand between your thighs.

“s-so much,” he pants, smearing the tips of his fingers with his own seed. he liked admiring his own mess he always created inside of you. it was lewd, yet he wanted more. more of you.

“let’s .. let’s do it again. please? i— i wanna be dirty for you, please. this time i… i wanna see how a human squirts, princess. teach me?”

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