#glossy eyelids

[joneoyvilde03]

Renaveemon Eyes on Glossy eyelids PT1

レナブイモン

hello everyone I got Renaveemon’s eyes and I got draw a characters design streets a eyes types on glossy eyelids I draw a eye pupil a color orange and I draw a my OCs on a series maker and thanks for made joneoyvilde03

character from:

Digimon/OC/Toei animation

by joneoyvilde03

[chiprewington]

imagine brute forcing yourself to learn blender just so you can modify toontown models to look more like your vision

[whytheylosttheirminds]

the boy is mine - r.c.

(blurb, 1.4k words, season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader)

summary he's got finally got his shit tight, but now everybody wants him, and that just won't do...

content fem receiving oral, 18+ minors do not interact

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun was hot and angry, casting a golden glow on Rafe as he cracked another beer and threw it back. You watched his tall frame from your beach chair, lip between your teeth as you took in the sharp panes of his stomach. You squirmed slightly while your eyes tracked the little trail of hair that led lower, lower…

But you weren’t the only one looking. 

The music bumped through someone’s speaker as a group of bikini-clad girls pulled up their chairs and umbrellas right next to your group’s coveted spot.

Your friend leaned over in her beach chair, “think someone’s got eyes for your man.” You followed her nod to the gaggle of bottle blondes with fake tans who were whispering to each other and smiling in his direction. 

“That’s cute,” you snorted.

Rafe was none the wiser to their stares, reaching his hand down to help you to your feet, pulling you toward the water behind him.

“Think you’ve got some fans,” you told him once you were bobbing in the waves, your arms around his neck as he crouched low to meet your eyeline.

He smirked, “maybe I should go sign some autographs.”

You smacked his shoulder, making him laugh despite your pouty frown. He stood from the water, lifting you with him so they could see your legs wrap around his waist. He grabbed your ass, holding you up with ease as his lips found yours.

The girls on the beach were suddenly very busy checking their phones and setting up umbrellas, disappointed looks on their faces as Rafe showed you off.

Back at his house, Rafe lead you into the outdoor shower, turning on the lukewarm water to wash the sea and sand from your body. When he caught you frowning, he tapped the side of your head gently, his signature way of asking what’s on your mind.

“I’m glad you’re so successful, I just don’t like that everybody suddenly wants what’s mine,” you explained.

He looked down at you, eyelids low as his gaze traveled over your body. His hands slid up your sides slowly, thumbs slipping under the thin string of your bikini top, sweeping over your ribs.

“So possessive,” he smirked.

“Just think everyone should know you’re off limits by now,” you whispered, stepping closer to him until you were chest to chest.

You nudged your nose against his neck, guiding him to tilt his chin up and reveal his throat to you. Your lips started out soft, tickling him with little kitten licks between each gentle kiss. When you reached his Adam’s apple, you let your teeth graze over the sensitive skin. Rafe winced, his obvious erection pressing against your belly and making you hungrier for him than ever. 

Finally, you sucked harder, right where his neck meets his broad chest. After a few moments of pressure, you pulled back and wiped the glossy spit from your lips, smiling in satisfaction at the purple-blue mark you left on him. You moved to leave another, but he interrupted you.

“Bet those girls on the beach wouldn’t tease me this much,” he grumbled.

You responded by wrapping your fingers around his throat. He chuckled smugly under your hold, deep vibration tickling your palm. It’s merely a symbolic gesture, your small hand doesn’t even fit half way around his neck. You squeezed harder, but he was still smiling. You narrowed your eyes at him, no more fucking around.

Your hand snaked up higher, around to the back of his neck. As you ran your fingers up over his buzzed hair, you let your nails scratch enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. When you reached as high as you could go, standing up on your tiptoes and still nowhere near matching his height, you pressed his head down hard, nails digging into his scalp. 

Rafe stumbled for just a second before understanding the assignment. He lowered to his knees slowly, shuffling forward until your back brushed against the wall, the water from the shower cascading over your shoulders and down your body.

“Bet those girls on the beach couldn’t make you drop to your knees without saying a single word either,” you taunted him.

He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in, pushing you back against the wall hard.

“Tell me who else, baby,” you continued, “who else can put big bad Rafe Cameron on his knees? Hmm?”

His stare was icy as he looked up at you from the ground. You returned your hand to the top of his head, redirecting his gaze to your bikini bottoms.

“Show me who you belong to, baby boy.”

You could tell he was considering fighting back, the desire for control almost tempting enough to bring him back to his feet. But then he saw the growing wet spot over your center. Licking his lips, he nodded slowly, like a king admiring his feast.

His long fingers untied your bathing suit strings one at a time, causing the thin fabric to fall away and leave you bare in front of him. You lifted one foot to his shoulder, lowering him even further.

Rafe looked up at you, eyelashes fluttering over his pretty blue eyes as he spread you with his first and middle finger, his tongue flicking between them and hitting right where you needed it to.

“Exactly like that,” you sighed, head falling back so the water from the showerhead ran through your hair like a waterfall. “You know just what to do.”

No rush, he took his time. This was his house. He could take you on any surface, in any room, at any time. And he would. But first he was gonna make you come on his tongue right out in the open air. 

He’d developed this whole neighborhood, practically running this half of the island at this point. All these new houses were filled with people who owed him money. He runs this shit, and yet here he was, on his knees for you. The thought was so fucking hot, you had to bite back your moan.

“Nah let it out, angel,” he coaxed between sharp licks to your clit. “I want you to scream ‘til the neighbors hear, yeah?”

You smiled big at that command, “you want all your new neighbors to hate you?”

“I don’t care what they think as long as their checks clear.” 

He lowered his mouth to your entrance, lapping you up, grinding his nose back and forth on your clit until he was completely buried, covered in you. You couldn’t even feel the water falling on you anymore, your skin on fire with pleasure. Rafe’s hands slid up your thighs and over your stomach, before slipping under your bikini top and palming your tits with perfect pressure.

As instructed, you let your moans and cries fly. When he let one hand fall from your chest so he could slip two fingers inside you, curling at the knuckles and tapping the tips against your g-spot, your whole body trembled.

“Mmm, that’s perfect,” you praised. “You gonna make me come all over your face?”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, licking a long stripe across your clit. “Make a mess for me, baby.”

He circled back, dragging his tongue the other way as his fingers danced along your walls. Your foot pushed hard against his shoulder, like you were trying to stomp him out, but he held himself up against you, the burning stretch in your thigh only adding to the intense pleasure.

“Oh my god! Yes, yes Rafe!”

You soaked him, one hand on his head and the other digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you came.

When you finally cooled down, body weak and wrung out with pleasure, he stood and guided you even further under the cool stream of the shower. He rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, letting the remnants of your high wash down the drain. 

“Now why the fuck would I need any other girl when you give me that, huh?”

“That’s right, baby,” you agreed with a blissed out grin. “I got so much more for you, too.”

Rafe carried you into the house, and he didn’t even have to ask for you to get on your knees. 

Before you started, he made sure all the windows were wide open so everyone in the neighborhood could hear exactly who he belonged to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[dmitriene]

simon riley that often feels overwhelmed during sex, feeling a slight uncomfortable tingling sensation in his eyes, causing him to close his eyelids and turn away, slowing down the movements of his hips and allowing his twitching cock still inside of your warmth, thick hands fisting the sheets until his knuckles turning white.

he was used to suppressing it, running out of bed on stumbling legs to lock himself in the bathroom and splash cold water on his face, leaving the woman with whom he spent the night behind him in bed, not wanting to show his weakness.

yet with you, it's different, simon doesn't have to keep pushing through the force, suppressing his feelings to satisfy someone else's, and he either doesn't even have time to croak pitifully that everything is fine, before your soft hands encircle his bared face, your supple legs around his hips, grounding him closer.

his body freezes, practically tensing with the rippling muscles in his bare shoulders, before returning his dark eyes to yours, the damp veil of which makes you sigh softly and murmur so gently — “oh, simon„ that it makes him shook.

simon ends with the heaviness of his body on top of yours, still connected with you inside your glossy cunt, just laying here and basking in the way your fingers trail the way from his thick hair and down his spine, circling scars and moles scattered across his pale flesh.

he doesn't utter a word, don't need to, with his face nuzzled against your neck as you stroke him tenderly, laying your cheek on the top of his head, your naked bodies connected and cocooned in warmth, as simon's eyes flutter shut.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

— i’m in love with a dying man

rating: mature. or explicit? i’m not sure. angsty study on grief in unconventional forms. (mild) smut purely for poetic reasons

word count: 4,1k

pairing: viktor x gn!reader

cw: terminal illness. several mentions of death. everyone is horny in a heartbroken way, so grab a napkin—but not for the reasons you think. and yes, you may dox me for making you even sadder after whatever happened in ep 6.

—

He licks a tear off your cheek, and it seeps in between the bumps on his tongue, all prickly salt running down your face in two glossy trails of sorrow. Stinging, when his calloused thumb swipes over a puffy eyelid, only to inevitably fall to your lip and tug, nudging your mouth agape. His desperate grip softens when you oblige and arch, letting him grunt over the slope of your throat; wheezier than you remember, raw, rhotic and ravenous. The hard shift of his lungs is palpable under your hand, ruckling heavily in his sternum. It almost breaks down to a cough when he cants his hips into you, slanting one last slow, weak slam. Spilling all his pent-up frustration deep inside you through that bitter orgasm, leaving a clumsy mess of stickiness to dry on your inner thigh. Stilling for you to hold him through that collapse, grateful for the shaky hand that you firmly fist into his hair. Not receding until at least a few kisses are strewn upon your shoulder. 

It’s always like this now. Viktor clings to you, and you cling to him, nails digging into handfuls of him hard enough to draw blood, each embrace so tight your ribs might just break if he doesn’t retreat in time. And god does he wish to let it linger, to drag it out until eternity tumbles in—even if his eternity is reduced to a question of mere months at best, even if he must crawl out of a casket to have your touch back. 

The night you almost lost him still has you in shambles. You remember it all too well—hell, it’s almost like that acute smell of hospitals and doom still coats his skin, more slimline than it ever was, its once ivory shade fading to chalk-like disaster. The utter horror of crushing verdicts, endless heaps of bloodied handkerchiefs and palms so cold that even the heat of your breath fails to make the feeling of him any less chilling. 

The dark humor of sneaky death: she’s right around the corner, the cruelest of all mistresses. Ready to snatch him away whenever your fingers ghost over his spine, stroking a languid count over each prominent vertebrae. And no matter how tight you curl up beside him, she will supplant you, and her proximity can’t be measured in miles, feet, or inches. Because death is a termite—she gnaws at his very heart. And blooms metastases everywhere you still have him. She’s inside him. She’s merged with him into one.

At first, you denied it. Knuckles drummed against the wall in a frustrated fistfight, painting that scabrous canvas bright with your frustration. White and crimson—the speckled pattern of your hysteria. You recall how bad it stung, and how shame creeped up your spine—frightening and so, so sticky. Throttling, when he tended to that self-inflicted disaster, bandaging your smashed hand in motions sick to the core with gentleness. 

And it felt so ugly. Like you’ve grown to loathe everything around you: the doctors, for their disgusting prognosis; life itself, for being hardly fair. And even Viktor. Especially him—for slowly slipping out of your pale-knuckled grip. Well, red-knuckled, more like. That angry stunt did cost you a decent injury. White and crimson, remember? 

Naturally, grief doesn’t always progress by the book. However, denial always comes first. It’s an axiom, an invariable component, and you’re sitting on Viktor’s hospital cot, hand in trembling hand, eyes snapped wide and ferocious. Wrapped up in fear while the silence rings in your ears. 

His doctor addresses the quandary. It doesn’t feel vicious—at least, not yet. Flimsy, more like. Deceptive, too. Like if you just blink it away hard enough everything will snap right in place, and you’ll find yourself at home again—where that aseptic smell of medication can’t reach either of you. 

Well, of course, there’s always a possibility of postponing the inevitable. Winning over a year or, even, two—if Viktor’s lucky enough, that is. But you both know that he’s lacking in that department.

And yet, you grab your little hope by the throat: to look into later, when your comprehension is intact again. Surely, it’s just not plausible: so what if Viktor’s cough pulls you out of sleep every night, so what if every shirt he owns has tiny blood stains on it? Yes, he spends more time in bed than he does at the lab. He’s simply tired. He needs the rest. Not in peace. 

The retraction doesn’t linger, though. It survives a few more blood tests and a lengthy, dreadful discussion of his calamity—most strikingly frightening when the doctor talks him through each option. And not a single one manages to appease you. To stop your fury from retching out and causing an ugly scene. 

So you fling the door to his room ajar and leap inside with a bitter scowl, teeth gritting hard enough to crumble into powder. Arms a tight crisscross over your chest, step wide and listless—punctuated with a muffled clack of heels. Viktor’s eyes follow your tremulous circles—a lazy, sheenless flick of pupils, each widened into a bleak void from the rancid dose of painkillers. He lays supine, with his hair ineptly slicked back, umber waves awry, loose and sweat-damp. He’s almost mellow, tongue barely a glide over his chapped bottom lip—a martyr-like stiffness, the carrion of a man. 

But you don’t look at him. You pace, and pace, and pace—in that same tiring route, all around his creaky cot. Viktor rasps something indistinct—a muffled plea that tickles the back of his throat, rupturing yet another coughing fit. You silently hand him the speckled handkerchief. 

He looks up, eyes the saddest shade of buckwheat honey—dark with remorse; seeking comfort. But you don’t have any to give. You stare past him, gnawing at your tongue hard enough to draw fleshy copper. Dodging the kiss he tries to press to your wrist—pulling yourself back and out of his loving grip, igniting a staring competition full of glassy eye-daggering. Blink slow and borderline drowsy. 

“Milackú,” he pleads. Pulls at the corner of his mouth to wipe the bloody evidence of his withering. 

Your tear catches in your bottom lashes. 

“Milackú,” he rasps again, kicking the blanket aside. Stepping one bare foot on the cool tiles and reaching for you: arms, legs, and heart—all yours for the taking. If only you consider crawling under his minty sheets again. 

You don’t. 

“Why?” It’s so meek you barely recognize it as your own. Taut throat tightens even more, and, suddenly, you’re choking on a gasp. “Why did you turn down the treatment?” 

“Please, if you could just—“ He husks, but you can’t hear him through the ringing in your ears; the room already smudged into wattery, astigmatic lumps, Viktor’s face but a bunch of fuzzy dots you’re struggling to make out. All missing jigsaws, blurry little fractions. 

“What did I ever do to you?” You yell, shielding your eyes. Turning away from the arm he extends, his weak fist clenching to grab thin air, then tumbling as he stares at his palm in sheer dubiety, upper lip trembling. 

He winces. Ceases you by the hand and tugs as hard as it gets—frail enough for you to easily nudge him away—but you don’t bother this time. Your knees ungainly bend into shaky arcs, drifting apart when he clasps around you and pulls until you finally land on the sheets next to him, your tears mingling with his cold sweat—a salty fusion of mutual suffering.

Then comes a sequence of guttural, squealing whines and you stay twined with him for a while. Lithe fingers run through your hair, spreading to untangle an occasional knotted strand—up, and down, and over your shoulder in a caress. His lips purse on your temple, sucking an indistinct kiss. His heartbeat trails off under your fingertips the second you rake them over his thin hospital gown, growing frenetic again when you tug at the fabric, demanding closure.

“Please. Please don’t do this to me.” You exhale your choked up entreaty into his neck and it pours over his skin in a rigid breath, aftertasting of stinging desperation. His hand seeks your face, taking a forcefully gentle hold of one puffy cheek, drinking in your unsightly, woebegone rebuke. Looking at you like a repentant devotee, his timid eyes meeting your fierce ones.

“This is not about you,” he wheezes, too stern for your liking. Presses his forehead against yours and holds you through yet another shudder—and there’s no avoiding his pleading stare. “I’m not trying to get away from you. I merely want to escape my conundrum.” 

“These aren’t mutually exclusive, Viktor,” you hiss, voice simmering with betrayal. 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Unfortunately?! Is that all you have for me right now?” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

He sighs like he means it. His words keep slipping away from him, drowned in coughs and ambiguous humms. You get it, though. Your semantics became sparse the minute Viktor almost died in your arms. 

You melt into one-another in a teary, sniffling twine—simply breathing, trading tense silences. His stately stance collapses into a lifeless hunch, straightening a bit only when your fingers billow over his shoulder-blades—chiseled like ones of a famished dog. There are plenty of dog-like things about him now—the pleas lodged in his glances, the newfound hunger for your touch. Especially for the way you’re holding him; every embrace like a loving headlock—and the pressure soothes him. 

“I’m tired of taking risks,” he finally whispers against your temple. “All these… labored efforts for mere fractions of peace. Decaying steadily. Constantly hurting. I’m spent.” 

“Exactly. Which is why you need the treatment.” 

His lashes shudder against your cheek in a prickly tickle. They keep fluttering when he recedes, shaking his head with a bitter frown.

“But its success is… highly improbable.” 

“Yes, but there’s still hope—“

“It’s running thin as we speak. I shouldn’t squander it on… the imminent.” 

Viktor’s irksome choice of words had you springing backwards in glossy-eyed delirium. Staring in disbelief as if he’d requested something inexorable: which he did, inherently so. 

He curses when tears slice your face again—tends to them with the softness of a man most contrite of his omission, shaky hands already catching holds of your waist, using your temporary pliancy to swiftly nudge you into his cot. Curling up close enough to have your weeps reverberate in his sternum. 

“I’m sorry,” he repents with a deep rasp. “Please, don’t cry.” 

He held you in reticence again: this time horizontally. Offered you every solace his body could provide: your fingers in his hair, fumbling mindlessly (he put them there himself). Tangled legs. Apologetic neck-kisses. His head heavy on your shoulder, its weight a welcome tranquility. And only when your last tear soaks his pillow does he commence with his explanation. 

“I don’t want to spend what little time I have left miserable,” he tells you, drawing a breath. “Yes, the treatment might win me a year—a year I would spend bedridden, nauseous, and weary. A travesty of life. An illusive salvation. I’ve had enough of those.” 

Your hand stills in his hair, nestled within unkempt strands. You’ve run out of tears, so this bitter truth is met with nothing but a piteous sigh—the only thing you can still master after crying your heart out into his skin. Now you can only stare at the ceiling, chewing on your cheek in cruel denial. 

He’s right. He always is. 

Viktor sees the shift in your face—knits his eyebrows together in tender pity, tucking himself firmly against your face. Wincing, when he feels the aching tension in your temple. 

“I know I’m asking a lot of you. Too much, even.” He’s sincere when he says that, and you can sense the gratitude in his voice—for even allowing him to utter this excruciating of a thing, for attempting to understand. 

You simply nod. Yes. It is a lot. But you want to hear everything he has to say. 

So Viktor continues.

“I would hate for your last memories of me to be tainted with despair and hospitals only for all the struggle to go to waste when I inevitably pass away. I have no desire to postpone this torture at the expense of growing indifferent towards everything that makes me feel alive.” 

“But what if we manage to cure you?!”

“That’s too much of a ‘what if’ to risk dying a grim death for. I want to die…content. I want to enjoy myself before I do. Please. Don’t take that choice away from me.”

His eyes brim at you with every ounce of guilt he possesses, big tears wallowing in his eyes like an earnest plea—tacit, weary, earnest. Yes, it’s not like you have a word in his terrific decision, but Viktor wants your blessing. It’s only right that he includes you. Even if he’s intending to refuse the treatment regardless. As absurd  a bid as that is. 

You clasp his face like it’s about to vanish. Like you won’t be able to make it out when he’s gone if you fail to remember it right this instant, your gaze frantically jumping from one feature to another, seeking to embroider the image into your very eyeballs. Roaming over the artifically-white hospital light hallowing every streak of his hair. Indulging in a bittersweet smile when you note how prettily it spills over the pillow. Lingering on the patterns in his ochre irises—almost fully swallowed by his void-like pupils. Observing how they match the insomniac, mauve shades under his bottom lashes. Tracing every convex little thing—two lovely moles, thick eyebrows, the pointy mouth. Everything you’ve grown to love so dearly. Everything his illness keeps taking away from you. 

You wince, cradling his cheeks, your thumbs dipping into the hollows of them gently. Urging him to scoot closer—eye to eye, lips on lips. Breath over shuddering breath. 

“Are you sure?” You mouth the question on his skin, barely even uttering it. Hot pressure meanders into your head like a prickly impulse. It’s timid like motion sickness—borderline nauseating, too—all murky splashes of trippy lights under your closed eyelids. And the unease is diluted only when he finally kisses you—an approbatory, guilt-ridden thing. 

He’s certain. And for that, he’s so, so sorry. 

You try not to think of it, focusing on the feeling. No tongue, no teeth: just sheer tremor and so much rawness. A soft, soothing exhalation straight into your mouth like the gentlest of placebos—and yet, it works for you, slaps your pulse out of its frantic antics, and the stiffness slowly leaves your limbs under his touch. 

When it’s over, he winces at you in that sleepy, adoring way of his. Attempts a wry, sad smile. The cold light besieges his head into an even clearer halo—a foreshadowing of what is to come, an inconspicuous little thing. But everything about him is conspicuous to you. Loving Viktor has made you wary, and you wanted to hold onto that attention to the detail before it eventually slips away alongside him. 

 “Are you sure?” You repeat, tightening the inadvertent chokehold around his neck. The grip weakens only when he pulls away to clumsily clear his throat. 

“Yes.” And you know he means it when his face turns just as solemn as when he confesses his love to you. 

“I’ve had a nice life with you,” he adds, hoarsely. “I want it to feel nice when my time comes, too—whenever that might be. Sooner than later, I presume.” 

The figurative knife in your stomach twists anticlockwise. 

“Will you stay with me?” He dares to inquire. Meek, shaky hope tingling in his throat. “For however many months I have left?” 

And when you look up at him with a hurt frown, he’s reminded not to ask you rhetorical questions. 

— 

A few days later, Viktor is discharged from the hospital and insists that you both go back to normal. Well, to the new, tainted definition of it—where one spoiled napkin less is considered an ephemeral improvement and grief is a fixed variable by your side. 

Your slow-paced, quiet life that keeps turning even more timid in a frail attempt to savor what’s left of it. Faux preservation, but he allows it—savors it just as earnestly as you do, and your weeks weave into a darling, familiar routine. With some minor, necessary changes, no less: rest comes before the lab now, all deadlines fashionably late to accommodate this newfound tempo. Mandatory hourly breaks. Weekly check-ups. Four days off for every three he spends bent over the parchment. But this time, he doesn’t protest. His body demands it, inconveniently so.

You don’t tell anyone about your horrific arrangement—not yet, at the very least. It’s all you can think about, and the words threaten to slide out every time you speak—but you’re forced to swallow them with a smile so lopsided that everyone around you can only suspect the worst. A mantra of countless ‘What’s wrong’s irritating your ears with pure sincerity. 

What is wrong with you, indeed? You’re a spectator to death—not just any death, but the one you dreaded most. And not only are you witnessing it in the making, but this decision was never forced—you handed Viktor the choice and accepted whatever he went with so obediently that it felt absurd, and it had your skin crawling every time someone vaguely mentioned anything even remotely related to his condition.

But they—whoever that refers to—could never get it. They wouldn’t know what it’s like: to be stripped of your selfishness for the sake of Viktor’s peace. Defying your needs. Forcing yourself to find relief in demise. You might’ve failed to intimidate her into allowing you to keep him, but you could still accompany him into her arms and make it glorious. Here it is. Your new, appalling reason. It’s all that you want now.

Or is it? 

There’s plenty of nobility in being his chaperone—welcoming him into bed every night, painfully aware that it can become his death one. Treating every new invention of his like a soon-to-be postmortem legacy. Mourning the living. Anticipating the inexplicable. Marking every shared kiss the last, just in case. 

But then it came—unabashed and sudden. That blurry line where mourning merges into something dubious, a confusing paradox that leaves you full of filthy carry-over somewhere within your gut. The scorch his lips engrave into the column of your neck. The way it ignites a swell you can almost convince yourself is actually tangible, running your fingers over it recursively like a tactile little prayer. The gaze he throws at you across the lab ever so sneakily—a figurative punch that feels surprisingly close to a kiss. And you never resist turning it into one. Escalating. Claiming. Indulging those ambiguous, yet-to-be-defined things and having them wash over the remnants of your decorum. 

You try to fight it when it first happens, but it doesn’t last. There’s no place for restraint in grief—not when it turns into a beautiful desire to be all over him, to take everything life has to offer before he runs out of it. And Viktor doesn’t judge you. He encourages it. He craves it, just as bad—if not more—than you do. How many more undoings can he claim before the final one absorbs him? You’ve already lost that count. So much for having your love bleed on every inch of his skin.

Tonight you let it bleed mouth to mouth—a sweaty, heartfelt thing that commemorates your hunger for him in a kiss so dizzying that he has to lean back with a silent, breathless plea for brief interlude—foggy eyes staring up at you so devotedly. Shuddering, when your arms wander over his chest to feel the rasp, pointed lips bruised full of spit-slick swell. He’s a beauty—exquisite, albeit worn-down, his lines and angles blurring together into one eager, contourless essence, and you cage him in a firm straddle—your bare thighs over his clothed ones—grinding in a whiny attempt to reach him through his pants. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, leaning back to let him breathe. He’s sprawled out beneath you, tortuous hands already busy with tugging his tie off—impatient, clumsily nervous. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” you say at last, averting your gaze almost shyly. His fingers lurch to your hip, locking it in a gentle cradle, stilling above your backside in hesitation—asking for a laze caress, pushing your flimsy limits. As if forgetting that you never set those for him. Or, perhaps, he simply likes hearing your excited ‘yes’ every time. You can’t quite figure out which it is. 

He grabs a handful of you with reverence, and yet there’s something resilient about that grip—like he dreads that you might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on possessively enough, staring up at you with his head thrown back in a curious, admiring droop. Aiming to dispose of your shirt in a nimble pull. Plotting a sequence of kisses from neck to collarbone. 

You expect it when he rises on his elbows, then grips the bedframe to shift beneath you in a silly leap. Inelegant, but he couldn’t care less, releasing his hips from the hedge of your legs to make you slide up his crotch instead—a most welcome, brusque change that you adapt to in a squealing instant. Your moaning mouth agape under his grin. His hips thrusting through restraining fabric. Shaky. Erotic. With your arms tumbling astride his shoulders. 

“Don’t apologize,” Viktor insists in a lulling whisper, switching to a cautionary nip on your ear. “I’ve missed you, too,” he confesses somewhere into your hair, brushing through it with a tip of his nose—breathing you in through a tender whiff.  

Your words get lost in a deep fluster, rolling back into your throat and lingering there in a suffocating lump. They have you stiffening, heavy eyelids squeezing shut—a voluntarily blindfold to help you explore him through touch only. An invitation to feel you where he pleases. And, well—it just so happens that your whims align with his—a cohesive, welcome collateral. 

Viktor starts at the slope of your shoulder. Pulls the shirt down and traces that lovely curve—fingers first. Throws a brief, askance glance at your face to make sure that your eyes are closed, and, when met with the flutter of your lashes, gets back to his lovely tease. Tender, warm lips taste your skin with delicious, savoring sounds. Getting wetter when his tongue makes a fickle appearance—leaves a slick, capricious lick in the dip of your collarbone, fluffy hair tickling your face when he bends to tend to your chest, too—and you shiver as he sucks a plum love-stain that you’ll proudly wear under your shirts. 

“See,” he cooes. “Whatever gets into you must be contagious.” 

You give in to a half-lidded peek and find him begging for your assistance—a sweet request that you understand in half-nod. Arms up in the air and over your clouded head when he unleashes your skin from the thin garment—throws it on the floor for you to find later in the morning. 

“But it feels wrong.” You sigh. “Ever since we found out…”

“I’d rather you quit talking about that in bed, please,” Viktor reproaches, eyes heady with want. His fingers slide into your underwear, contemplating its fate—should he make it join your shirt or pull it to the side in hasty fashion? Either approach had him shivering at the thought. 

But the sudden sorrow stops the rush, rendering your urge for consolation. It wraps you around him all over again, legs locking in a tangle around his waist, drooping hands combing through his hair in a brusque, fervent tug. Seeking succor. Heart to heart and thumping an anxious march. 

“I’m afraid,” you admit, but it’s not a revelation. All shuddering shoulders under his idolatrous caress, and you pang with guilt at that, too—it’s you who should be fondling him this delicately, warm reassurance seeping into his ears—not yours. But Viktor wants to be your comfort. If anything, it’s the only thing on his mind.

“What are you afraid of, beloved?” A little shiver at the unforeign endearment—a rare occasion. His thick brows still drawn together in a concerned arc. They relax only when you rake your fingers down his body—counting ribs, toying anxiously. The hurry is gone, there’s only caution now: his enamored eyes, waiting for you to find your slippery words. 

“Of losing you before I get to show you how much I love you.” You whisper, suddenly tasting teary salt in your mouth. His thumb comes to the rescue, swiftly flicking the wet trails. So you chuckle at the affection in a silly stagger to bump sweaty foreheads together.

“Nonsense,” he insists. “You’re showing me right now.”

“Indeed.” You shrug. “But… Is this the right way?” 

And when he puts your palm over his eager heartbeat, you’re reminded not to ask him rhetorical questions. 

—

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @nausicaaandhermouth @thehistoriangirl @vyshnevska

[incognit0slut]

Just the sloppiest head ever, that’s it. Choking, gagging, etc

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.

Warnings: (18+) soft dom spence x inexperienced fem reader. Oral sex (male receiving while he talks you through it?), female masturbation because reader can’t help herself lol. 1.8k words a/n: this is very much self-indulgent because I need him so bad. Ty anon for requesting

"No."

You pulled away from him, shifting your weight on his lap as you peered down at him, a furrow forming on your brow. "No?"

He gently shook his head, his hands tracing up your thighs. "You're not ready yet."

You leaned back, creating some space between you, though it wasn't much given the way you were straddling him. "Wait a minute," you protested. "Since when do you get to decide if I'm ready or not? And why aren't you into it when most guys would be jumping at the chance?"

A faint smile danced on his lips. "I thought I’m the first guy you've ever been with."

"That's not the point!"

He laughed, his hands finding a firm grip on your waist. "It's not that I don’t enjoy the idea..."

"Then what's holding you back?"

He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "Because I care about you," he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "And I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed for anything we do together."

"That's what I've been trying to say," you replied. "I don't feel pressured. I want to."

He studied you, and when the silence went on, you knew you had to do something to reassure him. With a gentle sigh, you shifted closer, nestling against him, and allowed your lips to graze the sensitive curve of his neck. It was a spot you knew well, one that never failed to draw out a reaction from him. You felt the subtle hitch in his breath and smiled.

"You already went down on me yesterday and I really, really liked it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing further down. "Let me do the same for you."

Feeling the warmth of your breath against his skin, he let out a soft sigh, his resolve weakening.

"I..." he began, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze. "Trust me," you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. "Let me show you how much I want this."

His eyelids drooped slightly as your hands moved down. When you paused, fingers poised right above the evident bulge in his pants, you realized you had him right where you wanted him to be.

"Come on, Spencer," you whispered, gripping him over the material of his pants, working your hand up and down his thickness. "Let me suck your cock."

He sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist as he met your gaze. What kind of man would he be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? With a low groan, he finally gave in, his resolve crumbling as he nodded in silent agreement. 

"Okay," he breathed out, his voice heavy with need. "Okay, just... only if you're sure."

With a reassuring smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm sure," you whispered against his skin.

As if a switch had been flipped, you felt the tension in him dissipate entirely. His touch on your waist was firm, sending a shiver down your spine, and the look in his eyes had you already feeling a flush of heat between your legs.

"Get on your knees."

Your breath caught in your throat at his tone, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer dominance in his demeanor. Without hesitation, you obeyed, slipping off the couch and sinking to your knees before him. The intensity of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he reached for his belt.

As he undid his belt, the anticipation between you intensified, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your pulse quickened as your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, every inch of him, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, your fingers trailing lightly over his length, feeling the heat emanating from him. "I..." you started, your voice wavering slightly. "I might be bad at this."

His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Do you want me to talk you through it?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. "Yes, please," you replied. "I want to make this good for you."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. "You already make it good just by being here," he murmured. "But I'll guide you, okay?"

His words melted away your nerves. "Okay," you whispered. "What do I do first?"

"Start with gentle kisses," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Explore the tip with your lips."

Following his guidance, you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, feeling the tension in him building with each tender touch. You focused on every sensation, savoring the moment as you allowed yourself to immerse in the way he pulsed underneath your touch.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hitching as he looked down at the way you were gripping his cock, your mouth exploring every inch of him. "Now, use your tongue. Start with light strokes."

Encouraged by his words, you followed his guidance. With gentle strokes, you explored the sensitive skin with your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

His reaction spurred you on as you increased the pressure of your strokes. His hands found their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held you close. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Just like that."

A sense of power washed over you as you continued to tease him with your tongue, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath you. You marveled at the effect you had on him, and with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you licked him from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

His reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out. "Do you think you can handle more?"

Your heart raced at the question, excitement coursing through your veins. "Yes," you replied.  "Please."

He guided your lips over to his tip. "Now take me in your mouth."

You leaned in, allowing him to slide into your parted lips. The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of him filling your senses as you eagerly accepted him into your mouth. His hands gently guided you, encouraging you to find a rhythm that worked for both of you and before you knew it, your head was bopping up and down his length.

With your hand already gripping him, you began pumping up and down as you sucked him, eliciting deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. "God, your mouth feels so good," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Look up at me."

Obeying his command, you lifted your gaze to meet his, locking eyes with him. He looked down at you with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, your cheeks flushed, and lips stretched wide around his girth. Driven by the desire to give him more pleasure, you sank your mouth further, keeping your eyes locked on his as his tip hit the back of your throat. 

The sensation made you gag, your throat burning with the effort, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. But you pushed through before finally pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from your lips as you gasped for air, and despite the discomfort, the look of satisfaction on his face made it all worth it.

His head fell back against the couch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I don't think I can last much longer," he admitted, his voice strained.

Feeling a surge of pride at the effect you had on him, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his cock again, "Then let go. I want to taste you."

"Yeah?" he breathed, looking down at you. "You'd let me come in your mouth?"

Your tongue flickered over his tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. "I think I'd let you do anything to me by now."

He let out a sound of pleasure, and without hesitation, you took him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises as you took as much of him down your throat.

With each throb of him in your mouth and every intoxicating sound he made, the ache between your thighs intensified until it became unbearable. Unable to resist any longer, you let your free hand slide between your thighs, slipping underneath your skirt.

Surprised at how wet your panties were, you wasted no time in spreading your arousal everywhere, your fingers finding your clit with ease. You spread your legs further on the floor, arching your back as you pleasured yourself, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of your mouth along his cock.

Spencer's breath hitched as he noticed your dainty hand between your legs, the sight of you touching yourself while eagerly sucking and bobbing your head up and down his length sending him to the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer. 

He tightened his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washed over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he emptied himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallowed the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

It didn't take long for you to feel the familiar coil of pleasure building within you. With his release still fresh on your tongue, you shifted your focus to your own pleasure, your fingers picking up the pace as you sought your own climax. And then, with a sharp gasp, you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You finally released him when your orgasm subsided, slumping over his lap. He was quick to bring you up on the couch, a tender smile on his lips as he looked down at you. "Did you make yourself come?"

Feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks, you nodded breathlessly, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah..."

His smile softened further, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured you. But before you could respond, you felt his other hand slipping inside your skirt, tugging down your panties.

Your eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's only fair," he replied as he pulled your panties down your legs. Then, to your surprise, he got to his knees, positioning himself between your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. "I want to taste you too."

[1818havefaith]

2010'S GLAM - DARK EYES, PINK LIPS: FAITH’S GUIDE

OVERVIEW

This look mixes a matte base with glossy lips. The emphasis is placed mainly on the eyes, and the other focus is the lips. This is a good everyday look that can be worn for any occasion.

YOU WILL NEED

PRODUCTS

Primer

Baby Powder

Foundation/ Tinted Moisturiser

Concealer (not too light)

Pressed Powder

Setting Powder

Brow Gel

Brow Pomade

Lashes

Lash Glue/ Bonding Glue

Highlight

Brown Lip Liner

Pink Lip Gloss

Setting Spray

TOOLS

Powder Brush

Beauty Blender

Small Flat Brush

Eyebrow Brush

BASE

Apply primer all over your face

#faithtip: use a powder brush to apply baby powder all over your face

Your face will look ashy after this step, but applying foundation/tinted moisturiser will fix this

Blend it in with a damp beauty blender

#faithtip: dampen your beauty blender with setting spray for easier blending and a longer lasting base

After blending in your foundation/tinted moisturiser, apply a concealer that is only slightly lighter than your skin tone to the inner corner of your under-eye

Place concealer to the end of your under-eyes following the shape of your eyes

Blend it in well with a beauty blender

Take a powder brush and some pressed powder and apply all over your face

Now, apply setting powder to your under eyes following your eye shape.

Place a line of setting powder under your cheeks

Let the setting powder sit whilst you focus on another part of your face

EYEBROWS

Eyebrows play a very vital role in this look, they help your eyes stand out more

This step will be easier if your brows have a defined shape

Brush through your eyebrows with brow gel

Use a brow brush dipped in pomade, to draw a line at the bottom of your brow starting from the front of your brow to the end

Draw a similar line at the top of your brows

Fill in the space (don't fill in the very front of your brows to create an almost ombre effect)

Apply eyebrow gel on top

Then use a small brush to apply concealer underneath your eyebrows

Blend well with a beauty blender

Apply setting powder to under your brow

LASHES

Lashes are the main event for this look

Select thick and long lashes/ lash clusters that suit your eye shape

#faithtip D-Curl lashes are your best friend

STRIP LASHES

But for this step apply glue to strip lashes

Wave the lashes around for a bit so the glue dries a tiny bit and feels a little bit sticky

Place them on the lash line and adjust where needed (using tweezers or fingers)

CLUSTER LASHES

Strip lashes can also be cut into smaller pieces or use cluster lashes

Dip them into glue and wipe off the excess

Use tweezers to hold the lashes

Pull the top of your eyelid upwards so you can see underneath your eyelashes

#faithtip Wipe the glue on the part you are applying to then you can dip the lash in glue again before actually placing it underneath your lash

This make the lashes more firm and secure

Make sure it is not too close to your eye as this can be irritating

Fan your eyes if you can still feel wet glue

BACK TO BASE

Brush the setting powder away with a powder brush

You will need to make sure you do this properly because the powder won't move easily, because of how long it has sat there

Apply highlighter to the tip of your nose, your brow bone and your cupid's bow

Make sure to keep the highlight application light and smooth it out, so as to not look ashy and to keep the focus on your eyes and lips

Spray setting spray all over your face

LIPS

Use a brown lip liner, slightly darker than/ similar to your skin tone, to outline your lips

Apply pink lip gloss to your lips

Then top it all off with clear lip gloss.

[theother-victoria]

Mr reca word vomit bc the brain worms won’t leave my brain!!! I promise I’m Very Sane abt this man

TAGS: not proofread, written before his release so potentially ooc and I’m too lazy to rewrite it post-release, secret relationship trope, reader wears lipstick, making out eheheheheh, reader is smaller/shorter than him, this is my propaganda and sign for u to become a reca kisser too

TAGLIST: @akutasoda, @https-sourlimes, @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii (putting you on the reca kisser agenda >:3), @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz

Ok so imagine being in a secret relationship with the man himself…

Like the two of you HATE each other’s guts in public. As a rival film producer, the public loves to pit your films against each other, and the two of you as well apparently. There have been so many instances of you making small digs and sly remarks toward each other during interviews that it’s become somewhat expected by now. You have a gripe with the pacing of his films and his fame. He has a bone to pick with your cinematography.

“That manic director’s most recent film? I would give my thoughts, but unfortunately I fell asleep not even halfway through.”

“That uninspired, dreadfully dull and artistically lacking director? All their films look the same. I couldn’t differentiate them even if I wanted to.”

No matter how critically acclaimed your work is, he always has something to say about it.

Even if it was in the back of an alley with his hands gripping your hips tightly and teeth nipping at your neck.

"It took until a quarter of the way through the movie before- hah- your cinematography finally showed some signs of thought put into the shots. I know you can do better than this. So why- mmph- did it take you so long?"

You angrily nip on his bottom lip. A flash of satisfaction runs through you when you hear him hiss and taste blood on the tip of your tongue.

“Like you’re one to talk with the horrendous pacing of your newest film! Tell me, what was the plot of it again? Because I- mmm!?- already forgot the direction it was supposed to be taking twenty minutes in!”

"Well, you just simply lack reading comprehension. Not my fault, of course.”

“Oh, you little piece of-!”

He shuts you up with a rough and messy kiss. Your legs immediately go jelly and were it not for his leg slotted between yours and pushing you up against the wall, you think you would’ve collapsed right there and then.

When he pulls away, your lips are glossy and swollen. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that makes him smirk in satisfaction and without any hesitation, he pulls out his camera to take a few shots.

“Yes, yes, wonderful! That expression really suits you!”

Anger looks good on you, but he much rather prefers this expression.

He leans in for another kiss and because you can’t say no to him, you indulge him- until you hear footsteps nearby. You hurriedly clamp your hand over his mouth and wait until they’re gone before glaring at him.

“Stop running your mouth so much in public! You’ll give us away at this point!”

“Then stop being so loud,” he hisses back, though he’s in no better state than you, his-already-disheveled hair an absolute mess now from you gripping it. His flushed face is littered with lipstick marks and you can’t resist the temptation to add a few more.

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” he huffs out as you place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. A soft kiss to his eyelid makes his eyes flutter shut and an affectionate sigh escape him. He smells of the chemicals used to develop film and strong coffee…

Then there’s a gasp and the undeniable sound of a camera shutter going off. Caught red handed.

You pull apart from him with a surprised gasp and expression. Strangely, he doesn’t look fazed at all. Still as smug as ever.

You whirl around to see an equally-shocked photographer standing there. Paparazzi, from the looks of it. He was probably going around and looking for some potential shots before accidentally stumbling upon something that would make front-page headlines. When you look back at him, then at the photographer, there’s even more people now snapping away at the two of you in a compromising position.

With the damage already done, you try to leave before he stops you. His jacket resting on your shoulders dwarfs your smaller frame and he yanks on the film strip belt to reel you back in. The crowd of photographers has doubled now, murmuring excitedly to themselves.

“Wh- let go! The paparazzi are having a field day-!”

He silences you with a swift kiss and a pinch to the inner thigh. The cameras flash even more rapidly now.

“Let them see for all I care.”

enjoyed this? my taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[cheollipop]

pt.2 | tags: established relationship, reader wears a dress, very suggestive.

getting ready for a party... imagine bf!san laid back against the headboard, watching you in silence as you dragged a small brush over your eyelids, eyebrows furrowed slightly while the fine tip of your eyeliner drew a perfect wing. he'd sit there for hours, head bobbing to the music echoing in the room, admiring your growing confidence while you got ready for your friend's party.

you'd scolded him into averting his gaze as you slipped into the ironed satin dress that had been hanging off your wardrobe since you'd bought it, only for him to sneak glances through the fingers covering his eyes as soon as you'd turned around. his mouth felt dry while actively salivating at the sight of you—glossy lips and a dress that overflowed him with need.

you could feel his gaze boring into your back, swiftly twisting your body in time to meet his eyes through the gap separating his fingers. you scoffed at his startled jump, followed by a honeyed smile of faux innocence meant to dissuade you from telling him off.

walking towards the edge of the bed, you lifted your leg enough to slip out of the prominent slit extending all the way to your upper thigh, knee digging into the soft mattress. you watched as the seemingly star-struck man lifted himself off the cushions to crawl towards you, resting back against his heels with his eyes fixed onto the smooth plane of your thigh. a shiver shook your form when the pads of his fingers met your skin, slowly tracing a line upwards from your knee, following the sultry slit of your dress until his palm slipped below the material at your upper thigh, cupping the flesh below your behind.

still on his knees, san straightened up to tower over you, his fingers indenting your skin as he pulled you towards him, his free arm wrapping around your waist. "do you really have to go?" he mumbled, an enticing pout on his lips while his fingers squeezed at your side, pelvis bucking into your hip.

you couldn't help but smile, snaking your arms around san's body to drag your palms up his back, curling your lips further at the shudder he couldn't contain. You cupped his nape, running manicured hands through soft, chocolate hair, speaking your words into the negligible space between your lips, "can you convince me to stay?"

you took in the wave of need washing over san's features, mentally drafting an apology text to your friend as your fingers tangled in his hair, watching through hooded eyes as his head descended to where you needed him the most.

[konigsblog]

marking simon riley up...

warnings: rough-dom!simon, afab!gn!reader, praise, hickeys and marks, slight possessiveness.

; simon riley likes when you mark him up.

MDNI 18+

simon riley loves to see how possessive you can become, by marking him up with deep hickeys, and deep red scratches down his muscular, burly back.

your legs thrown over his broad, large shoulders, allowing simon to reach places that leave your jaw slack with pleasure running through your body and pooling at your wet heat. delirium fills your glossy eyes as he grips your jaw firmly, chuckling at your fucked-out, stupid reaction, looking deep into your pretty eyes.

his bulbous and slicken cock pulsates at the warmth and wetness wrapped tightly around his shaft, pulsing and tightening with each hard thrust knocking the wind from your lungs, silencing your moans as you're left scratching down his back in an attempt to stabilise yourself.

“..that’s it-- attagirrrllll... there we go--.. look at you, little one, takin’ this dick so fuckin’ deep, yeah?”

his guttural and hoarse voice leaves you moaning and mewling pathetically like a mutt in heat, your chest rising and falling with your orgasm quickly building up, tightening your core as you drag your nails down his back slowly at the sloppy sensation inside your gummy, tight walls.

to simon, your sharp scratches encourage him to fuck you even deeper, even harder — with your adoring eyes rolling to the back of your head, eyelids heavy with lust and satisfaction as he rolls his broad, sturdy hips against you, eyebrows furrowed and his head thrown back as his tip weeps milky white pearls of semen.

your lips attach onto his already marked neck, possessively marking him up with more hickeys as he fucks you even harder, his calloused and scarred hands wandering over your soft body and groping your tight rear firmly, holding you close where he feels your heartbeat rhythm, quickening as your orgasm ruptures through you abruptly, your pussy drooling around his hard and girthy cock, back arched as you feel him prod at your cervix, whimpering out as you dig your nails into his back, fingers nestled in his blonde locks.

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: female reader, non - con

Your captor who kisses your puffy tear - stained eyelids, lashes glossy and shiny, keeping your hands above your head as he licks the salty drops falling down your cheeks. He's forcing your knees far apart, pushing them towards your chest as he ruts against your wet heat in a crazed, almost ritualistic frenzy. You sob pitifuly, turning your head away from his scarlet gaze, fixed on your throat - his heavy hands just itching to wrap around it.

"It hu-urts." You whine, trying to mimick that coquette little voice he likes so much, but the sheer force of his pounding makes it hard to speak in a coherent manner - violently tearing all those humiliating guttural whimpers from your body.

He moves to kiss your cheek, his hair sticking to his back with sweat - he's been at it for a while. You're not sure if it's day or night.

"I know, baby, I know." He coos, not even bothering to look at you - lost in the way your tight walls cling to his cock despite your obvious protests. "But you can take it, right?" He laps at your neck, sucking on the oversensitive skin. You cry out, it's all too much for you - and you're so tired. "Because you're my good girl." He groans breathlessly, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm, eyes rolling. "And you want to make me happy, don't you?"

You can taste the threat before it even rolls off his tongue. You nod eagerly. You don't want him angry. Hell, you can't make him angry - your body won't be able to withstand his wrath again.

"Of course you do. Such a sweet girl." He kisses you deeply, swallowing whatever was left of your pride off your parted lips. "All mine."

Somehow his thrusts get even rougher.

[xblackkurox]

Nanami Kento breeding his wife. nsfw, mdni!

Some thoughts that keep me entertained at work lmao, so might be full of mistakes. English is not my first language and all that yk.

Couldn't stand the thought of not having any smut of this man in my page since he is the love of my life.

His cock drills into your cunt, again and again, in and out, in and out. His tip kisses your cervix with each single slam of his hips, legs folded so your knees press against your boobs.

Kento has you in the meanest matting press, big hands pressing at the back of your full thighs surely leaving red or even purple marks.

"Don't see you laughing anymore, pretty. What happened?" And no, you're not laughing, fat tears stream down your flushed cheeks instead.

"Fuck- look at that mmmphf!" He groans, narrow eyes zeroing in how his girth is being sucked in by your cunt. A ring of cum, both his and yours, on the base of his dick, each time he bottoms out it sticks messily to your folds. It's so lewd, even your mound and his pubis are stained with it.

"Hah- gonna stuff this soft tummy full of my cum, hmm? Get my pretty wife pregnant. Isn't that what you wanted?"

It had all started earlier that afternoon, while he was at work. You had attempted to pull one of your little pranks on him, sending a picture of a fake positive pregnancy test. Little did you know that your husband had been having a sever case of baby fever and that had been his last straw.

He had felt joyful, completely thrilled for becoming a dad, or that was until you sent another message. Laughing it off, saying it was just a joke.

Well, he had a mission now. He was going to put a baby inside you, so next time that positive wouldn't be a little prank of yours, but a real one.

It's been two hours since he got home from work, two hours of him pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you and himself. And still his cock was hard and twitching inside you. Hitting that spot within that made you see sparks behind your eyelids, stretching you to full capacity.

"K-kentooooo..." You whine. Hot and fresh tears spilling from your eyes, rolling down your flushed cheeks until you can taste the salty flavor on your lips. "Can't- can't take it anymore-!"

"Hmm? But you're about to cum... Lying again?" And he is right, he can see it in how your toes are curling, feel it in how you grip his cock from the inside. He knows when his wife is about to orgasm.

And just to proof his point one of his hands uncurls from your ankle. Gold and cold wedding ring caressing your folds, right above where he's pounding you. He caresses from down to up a couple times, getting the alliance stained with your juices before replacing it by his thumb. He flickers your clit, slowly but with pressure. And when you mewl he laughs.

"See? She never lies." And he's referring to your pussy. "Come on, give it to me baby- ah! You can do it- can fucking do it my love!"

That's all it takes, his raspy moany voice cooing you to cum. How could you disobey? Of course the moment those words spill his mouth you're creaming his dick again. Shaking and whimpering so adorably, making his heart flutter. Oh, he can't wait to see you all plump and round with his child.

Kento is peppering you soaked face with butterfly kisses, on your nose, on your cheeks, on your eyelids. And of course on your glossy lips. His whole weight now pinning you down on the mattress.

"There you go, so good so so sooo good for me- my wife mmmphf-!" He's gonna cum too, his hips are getting more erratic, more sloppy, more feral. "Gonna cum, my love. Gonna put my baby in you, yes? Make you my beautiful pregnant wife- fuckfuck- you're gonna look so b-beautiful... I love you sooo much-" He's ranting, praises spilling through clenched teeth as if they were curses. In between small pecks here and there.

He cums right after, stilling his body as he buries his girth to the hilt. Rope after rope of hot seed right into your womb. And of course he doesn't pull out after no, he remains inside you. Not allowing one single drop going to waste.

He's gotta breed you afterall, right?

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 14 || The Classroom Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, ridiculously filthy smut, a tinge of fluff, & an annoying semi-cliffhanger.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"MR. FUSHIGURO, T-THIS IS so embarrassing..." You whined with glossy eyes and a pout on your face. Obviously, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself like this.

Not that the man cared regardless, "I know, that's why I'm making you do it." Toji scoffs.

"I thought..." You swallow, "I thought you said you wanted me to, mh... t-to talk about myself?"

Your hips are moving at a very slow pace, dragging your panty-clad cunt over Toji's muscular thigh with nothing but shame and embarrassment coursing through your veins. Light pants are leaving your lips and the feeling of Toji's eyes all over your body makes you feel utterly jittery.

"I do," Toji hums, "So tell me why you were late."

You've got one hand in front of you and the other just barely holding onto the man's arm. "W-While I...?"

"Yep." He finishes.

You glance behind you for a second, looking back to the closed classroom door. "Sir, what if someone comes in-"

"Better hurry up then, no?" Your thighs squeeze around his and he chuckles at you. Toji lifts a hand to your chin again and turns your head toward him, "We don't have all day."

You grit your teeth slightly and continue the slow grinding against his thigh. "I was late because of... mmh... t-traffic, I told you this already." You lie.

He scoffs, "So traffic is the reason why yer' drippin' all over my leg right now?"

"I-"

His hand moves and two fingers are placed on your lower lip, "I'm not dumb. Either you tell me the truth or," His fingers slide into your mouth and he pushes down on your bottom row of teeth to part your lips. "I'll start makin' my own assumptions."

You cannot tell the man what you were doing that made you late. That's worse than what you're doing right now-- having to explain your whorish activities? Yeah, you're not doing it.

Instead, you sit there lightly riding his leg and providing yourself minimum satisfaction while staring at him with pleading eyes. When Toji realizes you have no plans on telling the truth, his two fingers slide into your mouth and press down onto your tongue.

He sighs, "Fine then, sit there quietly and hump me like a bitch in heat."

The throb that you feel in between your legs is enough to make you hum against his digits lodged into your mouth.

Toji shakes his head at you, "Y'know, for someone worried about someone walking in here, you're movin' pretty slow."

"Mmgh.." You hum quietly.

"C'mon," He moves his other hand and gives you a light tap on your ass, "Move faster."

The movement of your hips speeds up ever so slightly and you gradually allow your arousal to take over the embarrassment you feel. Your eyelids get even lower, your body movement grows more consistent and sensual, and you moan gently around Toji's thick fingers.

The man bites his lip, "That's it, good girl."

"M-Mmh..."

"Y'like that?" He asks rhetorically, "Hmph, didn't take you as someone who'd like praises this much."

You weakly nod your head. The man suddenly flexes his thigh and you moan desperately over his skin, the sensation of his muscles pushing up into your cunt as you drag yourself over him is almost overwhelming.

Toji's sitting there so confidently too. With you on one of his legs grinding slowly and one of his fingers lodged into your mouth, he's enjoying the sigh all too well.

He abruptly presses down on your tongue, "I wonder... y'like being degraded too?"

Your head nods in response, "Mhm."

He flashes a sexy smile at you, "Of course you do."

You move your hands and wrap them around his wrist, carefully pulling his fingers out of your mouth, "Sir..."

"Hm?" Toji hums. He's so entertained by every little thing you do.

"C-Can you..." You draw his hand down and gently place it over your chest, "Can you touch me, please?"

Toji nearly choked on the air he was breathing. "Touch you?" He repeated, baffled.

You merely drag his hand further down, causing his finger to get caught in the opening of your shirt. "Please Mr. Fushiguro," You whispered.

Your voice was whiney, eyes glossy, your back slightly arched so that your chest was more prominent toward the man, and you'd yet to stop the dry humping of your cunt over his thigh.

The man tiredly rolls his eyes at you, "Only under one condition." He tells you as his hand begins to move without your guidance. "You leave right after you cum and then, if you behave well enough," Toji suddenly leans toward you and whispers in your ear, "I'll fuck you nice and hard next week."

The man doesn't miss the way your pussy throbs over his leg. Your head nods in agreement and you're quick to whisper back, "O-Okay," You murmur.

Toji sits back, "Good, now put your hands behind your back and don't move em' til' I say so."

It's slow but you do as you're told and place your hands behind you and on his knee. "Like this?" You ask in a sweet tone.

"Mhm," He bites his lower lip, "Jus' like that."

All of your disheveled state is on full display to the man. From the undone buttons on your shirt that reveal your cleavage to the spread of your legs over his as you ride him slowly, Toji drinks in and savors the sight of you.

His hands move to hover over your thighs, the teasing lack of contact giving you goosebumps. "What a naughty student I have," Toji tuts, "Wantin' me to touch her..."

Those large veiny hands of his are finally placed onto your skin and you immediately sigh in relief. They then slide up along your body, his hands calloused and rough against your supple skin. Toji's grip goes beneath your skirt and he rests his hands on your hips.

His fingers press into your skin and you gasp when Toji suddenly jerks your body forward. The motion caused your cunt to rut over his muscles and the feeling was enough for you to feel slightly jaded.

"F-Fuck," You moan softly.

It was a pleasant drag of your beyond-soaked panties rubbing over your clit along with the man's toned thigh that made your mind stutter and your body overheat. Toji's narrowed eyes watch your expression closely, silently enjoying how into this you are.

Surprising you again, his thigh flexes for a second time and he grinds you back against the muscle.

Toji then leans to your ear again, "That feels good, huh?" You bite your lip and nod, to which he smirks, "You're so fuckin' wet right now, soakin' my pants like some desperate little whore."

"Hhngh..." You squeak out.

Toji's hands slide over to your ass, palming the flesh in his hand and squeezing you hard. "I wonder what you were up to before comin' here," He whispers, "Probably out there bein' a slut, right?"

"N-No sir," You whisper back breathlessly.

One of his hands returns to your hip and the other moves to your waist. You feel the man caress the side of your body before he slips a hand under your top.

Toji laughs at the way you're still so obviously lying to him. "Look at ya' now though..." He shakes his head slowly and you squirm as his hand goes under your bra and fondles your breast. "How long have you wanted this?" He questions.

Your lips part to reply, "H-Hah... I... mmh..."

He only makes it more difficult to speak when the hand on your hip shifts over. The sudden feeling of his thumb pressing into your clit as you roll your hips forward makes your body spasm and you fall into the man in shock.

Your head rests in the crook of his neck and your heavy breath is felt against his neck. "Oh fuck," You whine.

Toji's thumb rolls around the sensitive bud and your stomach churns, "That feel good?"

"Uhuh," You nod dumbly into his neck.

Your grinding grows a bit more needy and aggressive so that you can constantly feel his thumb on your clit. Each time you roll your hips forward, his thumb presses into you harder and the pleasure is so relieving.

"Think my cock would feel good too, don't you?" Toji questions, his lewd words driving heat straight to your gut.

You can't help but nod your head again, this time a little more desperately.

The professor scoffs, "That's what you really want, isn't it?"

"Hah... y-yeah, fuck..." You murmur honestly.

"Aw," He coos, "So that's why you're really here. You don't care about that silly project of yours, you just want some dick."

You're starting to feel lightheaded with how aroused you are by the situation. "I-I..." You try to speak but the only thing that comes out of your mouth coherently is a moan.

The hand on your breast gives you one last squeeze before it moves. "Too horny to speak now?" Toji teases.

"M-Mhm..."

He scoffs, "Poor girl. You wouldn't even be able to handle me."

"I would... mgh..." You argue.

"Think so?" Toji challenges and you nod in response.

The man then shocks you by shifting your entire body. You go from sitting on his thigh to his crotch, and the sudden contact of his large hard cock pressing up into your cunt makes your jaw drop.

Both of Toji's hands latch onto your waist and then slide down to your hips, pushing your body down into him as he lifts into you slightly.

"Think you can take it? Huh?" He questions. "Think that lil' hole of yours can even fit every inch of me?" Toji asks cockily.

You give him a lustful smile, "Mhm."

"Words," Toji corrects, "If you think you can handle me, use your words."

You ground yourself into the prominent bulge below you, feeling his hard dick rub up between your folds and dizzying yourself. "I c-can..." You claim, "I... fuck, I need you," You pant.

Precum leaks from the tip of Toji's cock as your words hit his ears and he simply smiles at you, "Need me? Need me to what? C'mon, don't be shy, tell me what you really want."

"I need you to... hah, mgh... fuck me," You say.

Everything was so vivid, the pressure of his cock pushing up against your pussy whilst you rolled your hips over him. It was nothing more than dry humping but you felt so good already, an embarrassing orgasm approaching.

"Yeah?" Toji mocks. He digs his fingers into your hips and holds you in place before he begins to thrust his hips up into you, furthering the friction. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Please." You beg.

Toji rolls his head back and groans, "Damnit."

He couldn't take it anymore. The man moves you off of him and you stumble to your feet, legs shaking slightly from how close you'd been to an orgasm. Your body stubbles back a bit and you use his desk to hold yourself up.

Toji stands from his seat and you watch him walk over to the classroom door and lock it. After which he stands there for a moment and shakes his head.

When he returns to you, you simply stare up at him with pleading eyes. Toji raises a hand to your neck and grabs a light but firm grasp of you.

He leans toward your face and sighs deeply, "I was gonna' make you wait til' next week but y'know what," His hand slides down and to your waist before he lifts you up onto his desk, "If you take my cock like a good girl today, I'll give ya' more next time."

It's almost disgraceful the way you parted your legs and began to lean back for the man, inviting him in. "I-I'm not as fragile as you think..." You tell him.

He pushes you further down so that your back is against the space on his desk, "We'll see about that." Toji scoffs, moving to press his bulge against you one more time.

After one last teasing press, Toji takes his hands and is quick to peel your ridiculously soaked panties off your body. You hear him scoff again as he glances at your soaked cunt beneath your skirt, having no plans of stripping you of anything else just yet.

Your thighs are then pushed upwards with Toji's large build in between your legs. Your legs are quickly pressed together and moved over the man's right shoulder before he wraps his bulky arm around them to keep them pressed to his chest.

You watch as his free hand moves to work his pants off, hearing the sound of his belt unbuckling, and getting discarded to the side as you sit there catching your breath. You just barely catch a glimpse of the man's pants sliding down, his boxers following, and your breath freezes when he spreads your legs and the heavy feeling of his cock rests against your folds.

"S-Shit," You curse, your eyes go wide at the sight of what's in between your legs.

Toji's hands squeeze the underside of your thighs before pressing them up against your chest and folding your body in a way that makes you unable to have any control. His dick rubs between your wet folds, your slick wetting up his length and causing the man to let out a heavy breath.

You were so wet that you could hear the way your moisture spread all over his hard member, the sound extremely obscene and lewd. Neither of you had planned for things to go this way but neither of you was complaining, especially not as Toji finally started pushing himself into you.

Because of the soaked state of your sex, he should've slid right in but you were whining breathlessly as only the tip of his cock pushed into you. He was big, too big. Toji had that taunting smirk on his face the entire time he eased his cock into you, he could tell you were already struggling.

"Thought you could take it," He teases, "What happened?"

Your jaw falls as the tip of his cock nudges against your g-spot, you couldn't even say anything by that point and the man hadn't even started moving yet. Was he all the way in? No, but it damn sure felt like it.

"Ha-ah... ahh..." You moan softly, the sound being the only thing you could manage.

Toji slides his hips back and decides to punish you for your earlier claims of being able to handle him by quickly snapping his hips forward and thrusting every inch of his dick into you. The next moan that left those pretty lips of yours was louder than it should've been.

Something was felt in your core as you clenched around the man and his gaze drops down to where the two of you are connected, "No fuckin' way," Toji scoffs, "Fuckin' slut came all over me from one thrust?"

You move a hand over your mouth to conceal the whimper that leaves you in response. You'd been so worked up from before you came into the classroom and then the man had you riding on his thigh, of course you were going to cum as soon as he entered you.

"Mmmh... 'M s-sorry," You whisper stupidly, completely dazed by your arousal.

Toji chuckles and slides his hips back, "Don't be," His eyes are glued to the messy slick covering his cock, the sight making him twitch inside you, "Fuuuck, it's all messy now 'nd I didn't even do anything." He groans.

After that, the man stops toying with you. He's quick to shove every inch of himself right back into you, hearing the weak moans pour out of your mouth in response. Toji's pace is rough but slow at first, his gaze locked on the way your folds spread around his cock and how wet the sight is.

It was so lewd, such a naughty predicament-- a professor fucking one of his students over his desk. He practically had you in a mating press over the very area where he usually works.

"Oh fuck," The male groaned deeply.

The sound alone had your cunt fluttering around him, which was enough for him to give up on going slow. His weight presses into you as he leans over and your eyes meet his own just as he begins pistoning in and out of your sopping hole.

Even with your hand over your mouth, your moaning was still loud, "Hhnngh... a-aah... f-fuck, wait... mmgh..." You pleaded beneath your palm.

Toji scoffs at you with a smirk on his face, "Don't tell me to wait." He orders, "Fuckin' take it."

He started fucking into you with more vigor, squelching and skin-slapping sounds filling the room. If anyone were to press their ear to the classroom door, it would've been quite obvious what was going on but neither of you cared at that moment.

"You're... hah, ah, t-too b-big-, fuck." You stutter, words coming out broken in between his harsh thrusts.

His head tilts, "You wanted it though, mgh... Wanted' me to fuck you like this."

You couldn't do anything but continue to moan. Nothing could've prepared you for the way Toji started to pound down into you, groaning and grunting at the way your cunt clenched and squelched around his cock.

He suddenly shifts to the side a bit and starts fucking into at a different angle. You swear you're seeing stars by this point because the air was knocked right out of your lungs while Toji pounded every inch of himself into you. His tip was practically making out with your sweet spot, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him.

He drives you over the edge for a second time when he turns his head and suddenly kisses your leg, his soft lips pressing against your new lace stockings before he parts them and licks over the fabric.

"Dirty fuckin' girl," Toji degrades suddenly, "Having me lose myself like this, shit." He whispers against your leg.

Your hand steadily moves from your mouth and tears are soaking your eyelashes, "H-Harder," You choke out, "Fuck me harder."

The man blinks in disbelief and his hips stutter, "Harder?" He scoffs, "Alright then."

Before you have time to process, he's pulling out of you and manhandling your body. He flips you over so that your chest is pressed into the wood below and your ass is in the air. You feel his large hand push down into your back and force you into a mean arch for him.

With no time to process the sudden change, Toji rams himself right back into you. Your eyes cross at the feeling and drool is quick to well up in your mouth. His fat tip bullies into your g-spot all over again and you can feel your hips digging into the edge of the desk.

"F-Fu-uck.." You moan deliriously, once again coming undone in surprise.

Toji's hands go to your hips and he starts pulling you back to meet each of his harsh thrusts, "Take that shit'," He curses lowly, moving to give your ass one hard and loud slap, "Fuckin' slut."

Your pussy is just gushing around the man, eagerly sucking him right back in every time he pulls out. Nothing was quiet, everything was loud and filled the room. Toji didn't care for you to be quiet, he knew nobody could really hear anything unless they were up against the door listening.

"This is all you wanted, huh?" The man taunted you further, "Wanted me to bend you over my desk and fuck you like some kinda whore, hm?"

Your body jerks forward with his every thrust, "M-Mhm..."

Another slap on your ass is felt, "Use your fuckin' words."

"Aah, y-yes, mmh..." You cry out.

Toji moves a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you up off the desk for a second, "Yes what?"

Your eyes roll back, "Y-Yes sir,"

"Say it then," He continues, getting off on hearing the way you're struggling to form sentences. "Tell me this is what you wanted."

"M-Mmgh..." Your jaw goes slack and you're whimpering in between words. "T-This is what-, oh f-fuck... I wanted..." You barely manage out.

"Yeah? Wanted me deep inside you jus' like this, right?" Toji continues on, his voice right in your ear while he pounded into you.

You give a cockdrunk head nod in response, "Y-Yes sir, hah... wanted it s' bad..."

The male leans down and you feel his teeth suddenly latch onto your neck, making you gasp. You think you came again but you're not sure by this point, your mind is consumed with the pleasure Toji's providing for you and you shudder when he brings a hand around your body and pinches your clit.

"Ohmygod," You stammer, your brain reduced to complete mush as a lightheaded feeling weighs in on you.

Toji pushes his lips to your ear, "Cum on my cock one more time f'me," He orders. "You can do that, right? You're a big girl."

His thick fingers swat over your sensitive bud and your legs quake as you come undone just as he's told you to. You can't think straight, see straight, hell, you don't even know if you're breathing properly by this point.

Toji's scarred lips smile against you, "That's it, you're such a good fuckin' girl f'me."

His touch then grows gentle while he moves to hold your waist again, lightly pushing your body down and easing his cock in and out of you at a slower pace. Toji's eyes settle on the creamy sight of your cunt smothering his length and he groans loudly.

"Aagh..." He mutters, hands caressing your body before he pushes your skirt up and gets a full view of your ass. The man smiles before he grabs onto the fat and spreads it further apart so he can really see the thick mess he's made of you.

He watches your slick run over the veins of his cock, enamored by the lew sight of it and biting his lip at the view. "God damn, how many times did you cum... fuck." He sighs.

You're too out of it to respond and Toji simply scoffs. It's slow the way he pulls out of you and empties himself onto your ass. Your legs are still shaking and your breathing is all over the place.

You obviously can't see your face but you're beyond fucked out and you've got drool and tears running down your face. You remain still for a while, trying to collect yourself from what the hell you just did while Toji begins moving to clean all evidence up.

He's quick to wipe the two of you off with some tissues he had in one of the nearby drawers and you even hear the man chuckling as he wipes your essence off the floor. You had quite literally made a complete mess.

Toji soon gives your ass a playful tap, "You gettin' up anytime soon?"

You shake your head, "C-Can't..."

"Can't?" He chuckles, "What, you can't stand up?"

"No." You mumble.

Toji finds your current state cute. "No? C'mon, yes you can."

"No... I can't." You argue back.

"Lemme see you try."

You let out a groan and move to push yourself up. Your legs have a slight shake to them but you manage to stand up. Turning your head back to the man, you pout, "My fucking l-legs hurt."

"Awh," He mocks your facial expression, "You're the one who said you could handle me."

You roll your eyes and grab a nearby tissue to wipe the mess off your face.

Toji chuckles, "Don't be a brat or we're goin' for round two."

You freeze and cut your eye at the man, "...Fuck off."

He shakes his head in disbelief, "And she wants to be a brat anyway." He sighs, "Y'know, I won't be so nice next time."

"You were being nice?" You ask dumbfoundedly.

"Of course I was." Toji hums.

You simply shake your hand at the man and start straightening yourself up to the best of your ability. He watches you for a minute up until you get to the stupid buttons on your shirt that started this whole thing.

Toji walks up to you again and swats your hands away to fix it. You notice how he buttons up your shirt with ease this time and that's when you realize he purposefully didn't fix it earlier.

"You sly bastard," You whisper in a playful banter underneath your breath.

Toji smirks and leans down to you, turning his head so that your lips are to his ear, "What was that?" He tests.

You grit your teeth and decide not to repeat yourself.

He scoffs and leans back up, "That's what I thought."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The two of you finish cleaning up and Toji helps you out of the room. There's no one in the hallways and you're thankful for that up until you hear someone call your name from behind.

You'd been resting your head on Toji's arm and holding onto him slightly to help yourself walk until you heard the sound.

Your heart had sunk to your toes and you wondered how the hell you were going to explain the way you looked right now.

Turning back slowly, you meet eyes with none other than Choso Kamo.

He seems concerned as he approaches you and the professor, "I thought I recognized you," Choso says casually.

You lean your head off of Toji's large arm and swallow, "Hi Choso," You greet as normally as you can.

He raises a brow, "You okay? What happened?"

"Uhm," Your eyes go to Toji for a split second and he simply looks eager to hear how you're going to explain why you're leaning on him. "My legs gave out on me and Mr. Fushiguro was helping me." You lie all too smoothly, "I'm fine though-"

"I can help you from here," Choso offers, glancing at the man beside you, "If that's alright."

Toji shrugs and Choso's quick but careful to move an arm around your waist and pull you close to him. Your heart is out of control right now and you seriously think you're going to pass out any second now due to your nerves.

"How'd your legs give out?" Choso asks.

"I've been really busy today and uh," You avoid his eyes, "It's that time of the month so..."

Toji can't help the quiet laugh that leaves him, "Kamo, take good care of her." He says before turning and leaving the two of you.

Choso nods in response and watches as the professor disappears down the hall. After which, his eyes go straight to you. "Shouldn't you be lying down or something then?" He asks.

"Well, I... I had class. Being on my period doesn't give me a pass, silly." You sigh.

Choso blinks, "You couldn't skip one day...? I'm sure Mr. Fushiguro wouldn't have cared. And wait," His eyes narrow at you, "You're a Psych major, why are you taking an economics class?"

"Long story." You hum. "I'll explain later."

For a second, he stares. He's studying the state of your face closely, taking in every little detail. "Alright well, you look like you're about to fall over so, can I take you home?"

Your eyes finally meet his, "Something tells me that even if I say no, you're gonna do it anyways."

"I am." Choso chuckles.

"Then yeah, you can take me home." You utter softly.

The man starts helping you walk down the rest of the halfway and out of the building, his hand supportively latched onto your waist the entire time.

As the two of you make it outside, Choso walks you to his car and your eyes widen a little. The man drives an all-black Mustang GT and god damn the way the car just fits him.

In the middle of your admiration, Choso leans too close to your ear unintentionally, "Do you have cramps?"

"Huh, what?" You blink.

"Are you cramping right now?" He clarifies.

"Uh, yeah kinda." You lie again, nearly forgetting what you'd told him.

He nods, "Alright, I think I have pain meds but I'm not sure if it'll help."

Yep. You're one hundred percent falling for this man. You're not even actually on your period but fucking hell, Choso is so boyfriend material that it hurts that you're unsure if things would work out with him.

You find yourself dazed as you stare at his face while he unlocks his car and moves to open the door. Once his door is open, he looks at you and furrows his brows.

"What?" Choso asks, wondering why you're staring at him so intently.

Part of you wanted to say that you think you're in love with him but maybe you're brain is still mushy because of Toji...

"Thank you," You whisper.

He doesn't know why but his heart feels a little weird, "No problem." Choso says back, quickly snatching his eyes off you before he loses himself.

Oh, you're so fucked. As he seats you in his car and soon drives you home, you find yourself stuck in your brain.

This whole thing is terrible...

You definitely like Choso. You and Geto have slept with each other more times than you think you should've. You just fucked a professor. You still have other guys to seduce. And Gojo Satoru is still an asshole.

By the time you get home and part from Choso, you feel like you want to cry again. Had it not been for this stupid list, you probably could've asked Choso out by now. You could've been in a happy relationship and had no problems to worry about, aside from getting a job and having money of course.

As you shut your apartment door, you tipped your head forward and groaned.

"Fuck." You hate everything right now.

How do you fix it? How do you get yourself out of this? What can you do to give yourself a positive outcome??

"Someone seems stressed," A voice points out from somewhere behind you.

You think your eye twitches at the sound alone and you get angry all too quickly.

It's none other than Gojo Satoru; the man to blame for your current unhappiness.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

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[000-pawz]

solace (m.jh) ˚ · .

myung jaehyun x fem!reader, smut (mdni!!!), very soft, did i mention this is soft, slight angst, jaehyun is exhausted :(, (emotional) hurt/comfort (?)

warnings: sub!jaehyun, softdom!reader, slight dumbification, "puppy", handjobs, nipple play, drool, finger sucking (?)

wc: 2.6k+

a/n: i wrote this on autopilot... i love u puppy jaehyun <3 (i tried to edit it but im sleepy so i may have missed some things ^___^)

he doesn’t usually come to you like this. you knew something was wrong from the moment he asked if he could stay at your place after his schedules instead of coming over in the morning like you had discussed. and when he climbs into your bed that night, he doesn’t say a word; instead, he simply cuddles up to your side and rests his forehead on your shoulder with a sigh so heavy, his entire body melts into the sheets afterwards.

you know jaehyun’s been tired lately. you notice everything. his smile seems weaker, his eyelids are drooped, and he spends most of his time spacing out with his gaze focused on nothing and everything all at once.

you notice it all, except, you aren’t sure what you can do for him. when he got home early tonight, he barely looked you in the eyes before falling into your arms with tears brimming at his waterline, his hands shaky as he gripped the back of your sweater; as if you would crumble away and disappear if he ever let go.

“‘m so tired,” he whispered into your ear before he buried his face in your neck, his tears leaving a damp trail against your skin. you held him back even tighter, pressing a soft kiss to his own neck in return. you knew that he didn’t want you to respond. not yet, at least, so you gently shushed him instead, swaying your bodies back and forth in an effort to soothe him.

you had persuaded him to take a shower while you made him something to eat, his face pale from the lack of meals he’s been having recently. and when he emerged from the condensated bathroom, his eyes were dull and empty, any trace of their usual flicker gone. you asked him about his day and he gave you a limp smile and airy puff of laughter, shrugging as he pushed the food around on his plate.

“it was okay. i got a lot done today.” his eyes flickered up to yours, unreadable and cloudy, and you gave him a gentle smile of your own, placing your hand on top of his.

“i’m proud of you. you always work so hard. you’re amazing.” the words tumbled out of your mouth and you hoped they would stick. lately, you feel as if the praise goes straight through him, swallowed up by the abyss of his own thoughts. 

you want to pick at his brain and see what he’s thinking—what you can do to make it better—but he always brushes it off with a little “i’ll be fine. i just need to rest, that’s all.”

but when he presses his body further against yours under the sheets, his hand trailing to grasp the end of your shirt in his fist, you know it’s more than that. it's been more than that for a while.

“jaehyun,” you whisper into the dim room, only illuminated by the glow of the moon and your tiny nightlight plugged in on the opposite wall. 

he hums in response, his head tilting slightly to gaze at the side of your face. you turn your own head to face him, reaching up to brush the strands of hair out of his vision. in the dim light, he looks even more tired; and now that it’s just the two of you alone, he doesn't hide anything. his eyes are glossy, his bottom lip trembles, and the heights of his cheeks are flushed red. you want nothing more than to take all of his pain away.

“how can i help you, baby?” you ask quietly, your hand moving down to rest on his warm cheek. his eyes flutter shut at your touch, his fingers gripping tighter at the fabric of your shirt. “what can i do to make it better?”

jaehyun is quiet for a while, but you know he isn’t asleep. his breathing is too heavy and his body is too tense, so at his silence, you trail your fingers up into his hair to massage his scalp, subtly tipping his head back a bit. he lets you maneuver, his body sinking into your touch. 

“i… i don’t know,” he mumbles before his eyes open again, meeting yours in the limited light. they’re pleading, shiny, desperate. your stomach churns. “i’m so tired, but i can’t stop thinking. i don’t want to think anymore.”

you hum in acknowledgment, moving closer until your mouth is right above his. he watches your every move with a bated breath, his adams apple bobbing when you move your hand to his chin, your thumb brushing across his lower lip slowly.

“then let me do the thinking for you. would you like that?”

jaehyun makes a small sound at your words, something quiet and airy, his lips parting as your thumb continues to trail across his lips. he doesn’t respond other than his tongue peaking out to invite your finger inside, his eyes slipping shut again as his lips close around your finger. his mouth is warm and wet, the sight of his glossy lips around your digit making your skin heat up. 

he’s so pretty like this, docile and receiving, his tongue swirling around your thumb as you delicately push it further into his mouth. his hand shakes from where it’s holding onto your shirt, his grip loosening to sneak his fingers under the fabric instead. they splay out against the skin of your hip, grounding and present.

when you pull your finger out of his mouth, he whines softly, his eyes opening ever so slightly to watch what you’re doing. you give him a small smile before pushing at chest so he can roll onto his back. his shirt rides up a little at the motion, exposing his soft belly and faint happy trail, yet his eyes remain completely fixated on you.

“i asked you a question, puppy…” you start slowly as you straddle his waist. “do you need me to think for you? is puppy done using his brain?”

something warm fills your chest when jaehyun’s hips involuntarily jolt at your words, bouncing you a little in his lap. he looks completely ruined already and you haven’t even touched him yet. his chest rises and falls quickly, his bottom lip coated in a layer of drool. he looks so enticing, you can’t resist the urge to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss before he can even speak.

he moans into your mouth when your tongue swipes across his and his hands shoot up to grip at your thighs that cage him against the bed. it’s pathetic, the way he pants as you drag your teeth across his lip, your hands resting over his chest to steady yourself. and when you break away, he chases after you like he’s been deprived of your taste for centuries.

“answer me,” you mumble, and that’s when jaehyun finally nods through his foggy mind, his hair bouncing with the movement.

“yeah. yes, please, don’t wanna think, please,” he whimpers, his nails digging into your skin. he's incredibly hard beneath you, twitching through his thin pants. with mercy, you place one final kiss to his lips before sitting back up. 

your fingers hook underneath the hem of his shirt, slowly dragging it up until his hard nipples are exposed to the cold bedroom air. you bring a hand down to circle one with your pointer finger and jaehyun’s entire body twitches at the stimulation, his cock fighting against the restraint of his underwear in interest. that’s when you press down even harder before flicking the bud, watching the way blood rushes to his chest the more you play with him. 

you do the same to his other nipple simultaneously and it doesn’t take long for jaehyun to be reduced to a squirming, whining mess, his head tipped back against the pillows. you lean down to lick at one of his nipples before blowing cold air on it, a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips at the action. 

he’s trembling already, your fingernails lightly dragging down the expanse of his abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. he’s watching you again, his eyelids hooded and heavy, his lips parted as he breathes heavily, bombarded with anticipation. a piece of art.

you pull his waistband and underwear down in one swift move, his leaking cock slapping against his skin with the motion. he’s so wet and so thick, his tip leaving a dripping trail of precum against his lower stomach, shiny and throbbing. it's cute how his cock squirms as soon as it touches air, his flushed tip spurting weak droplets when you gently trail your finger down the vein on the underside of his dick. 

“oh baby, your cock is so big. sucks that you don’t know how to use it, hm?” you speak sweetly, picking up his cock with your thumb and pointer finger before letting it drop back down. jaehyun’s hips buck at the impact, whining quietly as he grips your thighs even harder. 

“dunno how…” he mumbles, tears brimming his glossy eyes. he tries to buck his hips up again, but you seat yourself further on him, holding him down. you glide your fingers through his precum before spreading it over his head curiously. his breath hitches at the feeling, his cock jumping ever so slightly, but it’s too heavy to off of his stomach all the way, twitching pathetically. 

“that’s okay. i’ll help you cum, okay?” your voice is soft as you lean in to his ear, kissing right below it before trailing your lips to his cheek, placing a tiny kiss there too. “doing so well for me, puppy. you’re always so good for me, aren’t you?”

“good… ‘m good…” he repeats mindlessly, his voice sounding far off and light. you smile a little, tapping his cheek right over the kiss you just left against his skin.

“open up.”

he parts his lips automatically and you bring two of your wet fingers up to his mouth so he can taste himself. his eyes slip shut when you press down on his tongue, his moans quiet and muffled. one of his hands leaves your thigh to grab onto your wrist, his tongue desperately swirling around your fingers, trying to push them further into his mouth. drool escapes the corners of his mouth when he closes his lips round your digits, his cock twitching in between your bodies. 

“you like your mouth being stuffed, hm?” you mutter as you slip another finger into his mouth, slightly in awe as he meets your eyes with a small nod, practically gagging around your fingers. you're sure you’ve soaked through your panties by now, the sight in front of you gathering butterflies in your stomach. 

you finally bring your other hand down to his neglected cock, wrapping your fingers around the base. they can barely circle all the way around; he’s hot and heavy in your palm, his pre dripping onto your fingers like a faucet. 

he’s already a moaning mess when you squeeze his dick as you stroke him slowly, the vibrations of the sound shooting up your arm. his hair falls into his eyes, but he never breaks eye contact, his gaze spacey and yet full of so much devotion, it goes straight to your core. his chest is red, the flush shooting up his neck and face, the tip of his nose blushed and his eyelashes clumped together with tears. 

you keep your fingers in his mouth as you pump his cock, running your knuckles over his head slowly. he tries to fuck himself up into your fist, but eventually gives up, succumbing to whatever you decide to give him. he’s completely at your mercy, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the inside of your wrist as he continues to hold onto your arm, his other hand leaving fingernail indents on the soft skin of your thigh. 

you can tell he’ll cum fast; he’s usually sensitive on nights like these, pent up from all the stress he accumulates during the day. you can’t help but to coo at the sight of his eyes squeezing shut, trying his best to hold out for you. but tonight is about him. it’s all for him.

“want you to cum for me, puppy. can you do that? can you make a mess for me?”

jaehyun moans loudly at that, his back slightly arching off of the bed when you speed up the pace, wet sounds echoing off the walls, his dick slippery and bright red at the tip. you take your fingers out of his mouth to cup the side of his face, gazing down at him with so much adoration, you think you could burst from it all. he’s gorgeous, taking it all as his body writhes against the sheets, his cock begging for a release.

“close…,” he gasps, placing his hand on top of yours before burying his face in your palm, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. “can i cum? please, please, i’ll make a mess for you… puppy will…”

you smile down at him, circling your palm against the tip of his cock in a way that makes him literally sob, tears rolling his cheeks at the action. his body racks with shivers as his hips messily thrust up into your hand. you mentally savor the image before giving him mercy, brushing your thumb over his cheek soothingly.

“you can cum, puppy.”

as soon as you utter those words, jaehyun breaks, his entire body tensing up as he reaches his high. he’s mumbling all kinds of words, whining and whimpering as streams of cum paint his stomach and chest, thick and white as it rolls down his body. 

“love you, love you, love you so much,” he rambles, trembling as his cock continues to spurt tiny bits of cum until it goes limp, twitching against his stomach, worn and wrung out. 

when you pull your hand away from his cock, he’s still crying into your palm, gasping and clutching onto your wrist tightly. you gently shush him as you lean in to kiss the tears away from his cheeks. you don’t even care that your clothes and sheets are now covered in cum. he’s completely worked up, his eyes squeezed shut as he quietly sobs. 

“oh, jaehyunnie,” you coo, trying your best to brush his tears away. “i’m right here, baby. it's okay. let it all out.”

you lean down to hug him, wrapping your arms around him, chest to chest. you feel his rapid heartbeat through your shirt, his body still slightly shaking and twitching with aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“i love you. i love you,” he hiccups through his tears, burying his face in your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. you smile, squeezing him even tighter.

“i love you. i’m so proud of you,” you say, reaching up to pet his hair. 

you hold him until his tears finally simmer down into sniffles, pulling back to cup his face. his eyes are red and watery, his cheeks stained with salty tears, but to you, he's the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“i love you,” you repeat—just to make sure it really sticks this time—before pressing a long kiss to his lips. he melts into you at that, a lopsided smile on his face when you break apart. 

“thank you. for everything,” he whispers. you shake your head with a smile of your own, kissing the tip of his nose.

“thank you for coming to me. i’m always here. i’ll always be here.”

you both bask in silence for a bit, taking in the quiet stillness. and then, after a while, jaehyun taps the small of your back, searching for your eyes in the limited lighting of the room.

“can i eat you out now…? please?”

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3 x

masterlist

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. this is based in 2051, living in the future, kissing, new feelings (reader & Lo), alcohol consumption, protected sex, riding, missionary, fluff, etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

diver by @anitalenia 🤍

There was hardly any difference between humans and robots. In fact, humans were scared to go out in sheer daylight. The government– used humans brains to make robots be it for work, or different things like soldiers. DNA was stolen, and given away for experiments. Human kind was slowly enslaved the end of the world was approaching. So you were born.. your brain was made mostly out of wires but you looked like a human. Your body temperature was warm just like human. Your hair was thick and long and you were aware that you were alive. You were programmed to work for people who would hire you. You completed basic tasks like cooking, cleaning and babysitting children. You were a perfect example of a housewife— you were made to do these things. Of course instead of having a human heart and brain you had adamantium in you. Your eyes were different they were pitch black sclera. You had a dainty very womanly hands– nails painted in purple. Your lips were glossy, your white pearly teeth shined like diamonds. Your cheeks looked like they were blushing. You had so many skills, you loved being you. Everything about you was amazing.. even the strength you possessed. Your features resembled a young female, maybe in her early twenties. Before you left for work, you packed a suitcase. Set of uniforms and you were given clothes.

“She’s all yours. Your contract ends in two months.” The man who brought you to your new place, shook hands with someone named Logan and left you. Logan grabbed the envelope and turned you on, by touching your hand. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled softly– eyelashes so big they were touching your eyelids.

“Hi” you greeted him.

“Hi..” he mumbled back observing you. His eyes taking in your beauty.

“What can I do for you.” You looked around the apartment, slowly walking to the window.

“I don’t know.. you tell me.” He sighed softly pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Your brain automatically told you that drinking is hazardous.

“Well..I can start by cleaning for you. Where should I begin?” You cheered scanning the apartment grabbing the clothes from the sofa.

“If that’s what you want..” His words trailed off slowly, gazing at your every move. You cleaned so well.. by seconds you were washing the dishes. The next moment you were folding his laundry, the next moment you dusted in the living room.

“Well.. you’re fuckin’ made for this kid” he opened the annual you came with. Things were written down how to control you– and how to turn you off and charge you during the nights.

“I didn’t know you require to sleep.” A slight wonder painted his features.

“I do Sir. Full eight hours.” You responded wiping down the counter, moving onto the bathroom to clean.

“No wait.. ugh” Logan was about to stop you but you already started to spray the surfaces and wiping everything down.

“You didn’t have to clean up here too..” taking in your appearance again he noticed how swiftly you handled everything. The sink was covered in blood, he had a little shooting accident and forgot to clean up. His whole apartment was a mess and now it was sparkling clean.

Leaning in the bathroom doorway with the annual book in his hand, reading about rules and resets. Blinking you stopped observing the tiles, stepping inside the bathtub you scrubbed them clean.

“Yeah.. c’on kid you don’t have to do that” slight nervousness washed over his features as he watched you.

“Sir. I’m programmed to complete everything once I start cleaning it.” You responded and he rolled his eyes.

“Knock yourself out. I’m gonna hit the bar” shrugging he threw the annual on the couch and grabbed his jacket.

“Have a nice time sir!” You cheered again.

By the time he returned you had the floors polished too, every corner of his apartment sparkly clean. His bedsheets ironed, the guest room prepared for your stay. Currently you were cooking dinner– you didn’t know what he liked but you did throw out two pizza boxes so you knew the kitchen was not really used for cooking. Having an excellent sense of smell, was one of your characteristics just like humans had. You were not able to taste the food yourself but you made sure it’s very well seasoned. Did you had the groceries delivered to you? Yes you did. Hearing the key lock you straightened your apron and walked to the door to greet him but you were only greeted with a growl. “What is the matter?” You asked, your system telling you that he is injured all over the chest. “Sir!” You followed him to the bathroom watching him stand over the sink removing his jacket finding out the red liquid littered all over his chest was something called ‘blood’ hearing him growl in pain using his strength to push out the bullets which fell into the sink you touched his shoulder. “Can I give you assistance sir?” You asked him, seeing his demeanour shift features softening. “Take a seat” running your hands over the cabinets using your special feature to locate the first aid kit you heard him sink into the couch with a painful sigh.

“Hey kid.. I’m healing alright? It’s not needed.” Putting the first aid kit down you approached him again sitting down next to him zooming in onto his chest seeing the little wounds heal away. Zooming back out you suggested to have dinner.

He shook his head. “I just wanna fuckin sleep. How about later?” You were not able to tell but you felt some kind of different emotion cloud your system. It was different– usually you were not able to tell what you felt but today it felt like sadness. “Of course Sir.” You returned back to kitchen– it was bizarre that you even felt something. After Logan napped, you were sitting next to him waiting patiently. Even though it was after midnight– seeing him wake up you greeted him

“Can I make you a cup of coffee Sir?” Logan sat up eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you awake? I thought you needed your eight hours of sleep?” Your features resembled a small smile

“You didn’t put me to sleep Sir…”. Grabbing the annual in his hand again turning the pages quickly he groaned. “I haven’t finished reading this.. look I’m sorry. I will do better” your system was telling you he felt regret. It was amazing you were able to recognise his human feelings but you weren’t nearby ready to feel something yourself it was surprising “It’s totally okay sir.” Making him a cup of coffee while he read the annual he sipped on it. He looked so focused, as he turned to the next page— he stopped. The page was pink with hearts all over it.

“Love mode?” He raised a brow giving you a look you didn’t manage to recognise. But it was between surprised and confused for sure.

“I didn’t quite get that Sir? Most of the robots like myself.. do have love mode.” Tilting your head to take a peek at the page he closed the book.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to activate it.” He responded taking a sip of his coffee.

“Why not Sir? It’s completely safe.” You smile at him.

“I will try my hardest to satisfy your needs.”

“Oh really? My needs?”

You nodded “Of course.”

“Did anyone ever used it on you?” Curiosity rose in his voice. Your response was simple

“No Sir. I am mostly used for cooking, cleaning, and household work…I’m excellent with children.”

Logan raised a brow again “Pretty little thing like you? Just— ugh I’m sorry..” he trailed off.

A smile rose to your cheeks “Yes Sir. That’s what I’m made for” the answer alone was fair enough but he let out a soft sigh. “Right– let’s get you to sleep” offering his hand you gladly took it. It was amazing that your body temperature automatically resembled his the moment of contact. You were something extraordinary– both walking to the guest room you grabbed your pyjama. “Just a moment.” He cleared his throat turning away from you whilst you changed your uniform throwing the worn clothes in the laundry basket. Logan did take a peek at your body, human… goddamn you were all human— the curves of your body were inviting even your naked butt was nothing compared to robots. Pulling out a wire from the back of your neck turning around to face him. “I’m ready Sir. Is there anything I can do for you before resting?” Logan shook his head slowly. “No.. thank you..” he stepped closer to you. Your system was reading his face and there was softness in his expression. Maybe a hint of lust. “Sir did you look at me whilst I changed?” Logan felt embarrassment heat in his face. “I did.” You smiled. “Would you wish to turn on the love mode?” He groaned at your question. “No, I promise you I won’t touch you” he stood his ground. Nodding softly you rested yourself on the bed. Closing your eyes as he set your body to charge. —

Walking to the kitchen stretching his arms he saw how clean it was. Opening the cabinets were stocked— “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, refrigerator was full too. Meals prepared, labelled, and even dates written on them. “Did she mealprepped too?” Asking himself reading through the labels. The meals looked very nutritious, very healthy. Looking at the door he had beers stocked alphabetically, even sodas too. Everything set by colour and flavour. Closing his eyes he sighed softly. How could he even live like this for the next two months? And after what? He’d have to rent someone again? Natural struggles like this. Maybe you were to teach him how to live like a human being. The moment in the guest room repeated at the back of his mind, how could he be attracted to a female robot. A machine with no feelings? Was there something wrong with him? He was telling himself that he’s an idiot. Mentally stabbing himself with his claws. Closing the refrigerator after grabbing himself a beer and the opening drawers. The utensils shined, the plates too. The dishwasher was empty and everything neatly put away. He felt satisfied but also..felt bad. He wanted to do this stuff too.. have a proper home. He missed having someone doing it for him maybe having dinners with someone. Charles used to tell him to give this ‘home’ a chance. But how could he? Every love of his life was now deceased. Everyone was just gone— perhaps you could make it all go away. Maybe he was losing his mind after all… he had nothing to lose anymore.

Switching off the lights he sat on the couch again opening the annual. What was love mode?

It peaked his interests, how could possibly a robot satisfy someone? As he read further his eyes widened. Love mode allows the synth, replicate human emotions, such as touch, feelings, desires and needs– it was possible? Leaning to his right he gazed to the guest room seeing you asleep on the bed. Pushing the thoughts away, he gulped on his beer before switching on the flat screen. The news were on, and it was possible to purchase a robot too. If the two month contract would end.. he’d have to hire someone new again or rehire you again. And again, and again. Maybe purchasing you and owning you would be a better idea.. giving you a home. You were constantly rehired and brought to different homes. Like this you could stay with him until the end of time—

Days were long, Logan worked during the week and you were mostly at his apartment making sure everything is clean. You’d take his mail, pick up his calls. Standing by the window seeing the advertisements of your face on the buildings— you were getting warnings that the weather might get even worse. So you decided to call Logan

“Sir, the weather is-” you started and Logan sighed.

“I don’t have time to pick up your calls. It’s just a storm, do not call me to work.”

“But Sir” the line got dead and your system told you he disconnected the line.

Taking an umbrella you left his apartment. Wearing one of his jackets and a hood over your head. You were immune to water or rain it didn’t matter you were allowed to go outside but not alone. Calculating the location of his workplace, you walked until you reached his office. Telling the receptionist you were to see Logan she directed you to his office.

“What are you doing here?” Alarming look on his face told you that he was nothing but worried.

“Umbrella. You needed one Sir– I am programmed to keep you safe and attend all of your needs.” Logan furrowed his eyebrows together feeling his heart skip a beat. Your black eyes lowered to his pulse you could read his heart rate. It was picking up spiking higher than usual. “Sir.. are you alright?” He nodded slowly. He never had someone take care of him or worry for him. Emotions— he felt so many being in your presence and god you would never know how he really felt. Would you?

“Stay here. I have one more meeting and then we can go home.” He told you motioning you to sit down at his office chair and you did as he wished. After a long day and a drive home in complete silence you didn’t make an eye contact with him. You couldn’t read any of his emotions anymore— as if he built this indestructible wall around his feelings protecting himself…after you both entered his apartment he told you he needed a shower.

“Would you like me to warm some dinner for you sir?” You suggested and he nodded “Yes. You can leave it on the table, and brew me some coffee please I will work in my home office.” You nodded. “The coffee is freshly brewed and sweetened sir.” Straightening your ironed apron you warmed up his dinner and did everything he wanted. Hearing the shower running and seeing the door is partly open you wondered how it felt standing beneath warm cascading water. Humans.. they were complex weren’t they?

Standing straight by the kitchen counter you replayed the memories of your first meeting with Mr Howlett. Until he walked out the bathroom having a towel around his waist. You followed after him.

“Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Upon entering you saw him dry his hair.

“Can I help you dress?”

“No, kid. You’re doing way too much around here.”

“Sir.”

“Can I pick fresh pyjamas for you? I ironed them.”

“Knock yourself out, princess”

“But first can I dry you off, there’s water dripping off your body”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” He groaned softly. Oh he wanted it; he wanted you close. He wanted you to dress him, feed him, and be his little housewife. It has been four weeks and he couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Sir? Would you like me to turn on the love mode for you?”

You asked taking a new towel to pat dry his chest.

“Yes.”

— Love mode activated. —

“Please pick percentage for my feelings for you sir” as you dried off his body, logan wondered if this was a good decision.

“75%”

Your system programmed your feelings to 75% percent to his wish.

“Choose the percentage for my affection for you sir”

“80%”

Logan watched you slowly dry every drop off his chest gracefully holding that towel.

“Choose the percentage for my lust sir”

“90%”

“You’ve successfully activated your love mode. It has been saved and now you can use me to satisfy your needs” as you said those words Logan watched your face changing. Your lips got glossier, your cheeks reddened and your eyes hooded. That’s how it worked.. you became even more beautiful, maybe in a sexiest ways possible. So alluring.. so inviting no man could ever refuse you

Logan cupped your cheek. You dropped the towel, your own hands started to wander over his naked chest exploring his toned abdomen. Pushing him on the bed slowly so he landed on his back you climbed on top of him. Opening his towel. Your fingers touching his erection, slowly. Thumb circling the pink swollen tip. “Do we have protection sir?” Logan nodded. “Yeah.. I do” his breathing hitched as you cupped his growing aching cock. Reaching in his bedside table he pulled protection, a condom. You let out a small moan as you started to roll the condom over his cock. He watched you— you became so different with the love mode and his desire for you was deepening. He couldn’t hide it, you were everything that he ever wanted. Taking care of him so well. “Take it off..” he whispered eyes hooded with lust. Undoing your apron, then your maid dress your naked body was revealed to him. Your pussy looked so small. He tested your folds and you closed your eyes releasing a soft moan. “You were made for this weren’t you princess? Your pussy is moist. How can that even happen” he breathed sliding a finger between your folds. “Fuck..” he cursed eyes glued to your perky breasts. God your nipples were hardened, and peaked so beautifully. Just like an ordinary female “I was made for you Sir..” you lustfully breathed but before you sank down on his protected cock he flipped you over so he was on top of you. “Please Sir.. use me. I can make it all go away.. I’m yours” you spoke softly observing his protected cock. Logan lowered himself on top of you completely, your hands caressed the small of his back as he slowly found your perfect pussy and inserted his cock right inside of you.

— Love overdrive —

“Mmmm!” Your cute little moan was everything that he ever wanted to her before he snapped his hips into you. Your little whimpers and moans only spurred him on “needy little thing aren’t you bub? love mode? you were made for this cock” you nodded rapidly sliding your arms around him and your thighs around his hips. “Yes sir, made for you and your cock” repeating his words your glossy lips remained parted and moans flowing out. Your pussy is being filled and repeatedly and you never experienced love mode. It was your first time. The creamy substance which coated his protected cock was your own lubrication even though you were created only to satisfy his needs, you felt like a human. “Kiss me..” holding the back of his hair as he nuzzled his face between your breasts harshly breathing he slid his large arm behind your neck slightly prodding you up towards his lips. His mouth connected to yours in a soft kiss and you closed your eyes at the experience, clinging your whole body around him. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip and your moans only increased in volume clouding his mind making him love struck. His heartbeat spiked, as he needily rolled his hips against yours putting all of his cock in and you barely withdrawing and moving back in again. Your system was pink, your vision was pink the whole while as you made love. “I love you Sir..” you mumbled against his lips and Logan growled out “You love me huh? Perfect little thing, but fuck I love you too” he watched your perfect breasts bounce to his thrusts until he flipped you right back. You were on top of him his cock buried right inside of you. Your small hands lying flat on his chest, biting your lower lip you started to bounce on his cock. Throwing your head back, your long wavy curls covering your back and logan seized your waist in his large palms exploring your breasts listening to your moans and whimpers as you took all of his length. “Shit.. I- fuck.. I’m gonna..” he gasped for breath as you rose up and down his length making sure you nestled him right in you, your hips picked up the speed as you bounced faster letting him grope your breasts letting out the loudest growls you have ever heard. Those growls were followed by soft moans as he halted your hips bucking up into you reaching his high letting out a breathless whimper. “Fuck.. ughhhh..” you cooed cupping his cheeks leaning down to give him a soft kiss and he responded softly. Sliding out of you slowly he rolled on top of you planting soft kisses on your glossy lips and you watched him dispose the use condom. You were so much at all at once that he couldn’t last as long as he planned with you. “Would you like me to switch off the love mode, sir?” Logan shook his head slowly. “No.. please.” A smile greeted your face and your hands entwined, your fingers joining. “Would you like me to run you a bath sir?” You asked him gazing up at him. “I’m exhausted..” he whispered. Noticing how your expression changed again, it was back to normal yet that hint of love remained. “Sleep Sir..” you kissed his lips watching him then roll over to the empty side immediately passing out. It was only natural that men needed sleep after sex, and you understood that so you left his bed and collected your clothes. After cleaning up in the bathroom like a woman supposed to do, your system was telling you to do it. With a damp cloth— then you changed into your pyjama getting your needed rest too charging up for the next day. Your memory replayed before sleeping, it was more then satisfying.

for both of you.

-

this is complete work of fiction, any mistakes typos I apologise in advance.

[osachiyo]

riding chuuya on his motorcycle 😋 yummy - 🪽

not you always sending the best asks mwah 💋

What was supposed to be a fun night out riding on your boyfriend’s bike somehow ended up with you riding him in an empty parking lot instead. Not like you were complaining or anything — considering the way your velvety walls clenched around his fat cock like a vice every time Chuuya hit that one spongy spot inside of you — yeah, you were in no position to complain.

"God, best fuckin' pussy ever," Chuuya moaned, jaw slacking at the way you hopped on his dick like you couldn't live without it. Watching as your tits bounced up and down with every move of your delicious hips — it drove him fucking mad. He couldn't help but pop one in his mouth, suckling and drooling around your pebbled nipple while his gloved hands found your hips — slim fingers digging into the plushness.

"F-feel's s'good, Chuu -" you mewled out — glossy lips formed into a cute little pout which only made him want to fuck you even harder.

“Oh baby, my sweet girl — hope y’know m’not - fuckkk- letting ya go until we're b-both fuckin' ruined.”

You were so pretty on top of him, body slick with sweat moving up and down so shamelessly on his dick — incoherent words slurring out of your mouth that he couldn't even understand.

Chuuya couldn't even think straight anymore — the sticky grip of your cunt frying his brain up, eyelids shutting closed — the tip of his cock aching so good from being mashed into your g-spot repeatedly.

"O-oh—" A sharp gasp tore from your candied lips when you felt Chuuya's gloved fingers rub quick circles on your clit — spreading your sloppy slick all over the expensive leather - your tummy clenching and unclenching from the pleasure.

"Oh yeaaah — cum f'me, doll. know you can do it - haahh- cum on this fuckin' cock." Chuuya groaned as you gushed all over his cock, completely soaking the seat of his bike but shit, he couldn't care less — not when your pussy was fluttering around his twitching girth so enticingly — almost as if you were trying to milk him for all his worth.

It wasn't long before he was filling you up with his hot load — head thrown back as he continued bouncing you up and down, heavy groans and grunts escaping through gritted teeth.