#god damn even their expressions are perfect for it

[jjmbbg]

"Whispers in the Dark"

cw: dean winchester x fem!reader, protected sex p in v, gentle dick riding, holding hands, dean being touch starved wanting cuddles and kisses :(

a.n: this came from a post i saw here in tumblr, i forgot the user but it made so much sense i decided to write this. if anyone knows what post i'm talking about let me know pls !! <3

(pics from pinterest)

There are several things about Dean that you've noticed over the years. Some were small, like always sleeping pressed against your body with one hand always on the crook of your waist or tilting his head to the right side because he couldn't hear correctly with his left one.

Dean wasn't one to speak softly, he was loud and annoying, almost always on purpose, with that usual cocky grin that you loved so damn much...

He was amazing.

And I'm not talking about being amazing in bed —I mean, of course he is, but that's not the point here—, but... God, there was no man more wonderful than him, protective, respectful, flirtatious and thoughtful. You could make a list of all things you love about Dean, and you would even be left without words to describe what that man makes you feel and the things about him that make him unique.

You straddled his lap gently, pushing him down onto the bed, hands caressing his chest as you kissed him slowly, marveling at the way he twitched and jumped at your touch. His hands roaming your hips sent jolts of arousal through your body, feeling the remnants of his hot touch, lips pressed against yours, letting your tongue run through his entire oral cavity, doing the same in your mouth.

His touch was reverent, endless, hot and needy, caressing your curves with devotion and delicacy, just as he did the first time on that night that they both believed would be the only one. He moaned quietly against your mouth, the slow, gentle movements of your hips driving him crazy in the sweetest way ever.

You pulled back from his lips, hands tracing gently lazy shapes on his chest as you kept moving your hips, sinking his dick down inside of you, his legs helping you to move on top of him. You smiled at him, hearing him whine as he reached out for your hand, you intertwined your fingers with his, caressing his knuckles with your thumb at the rhythm of your self-thrusts.

Dean pulled you by the back of your neck with his free hand, kissing you sweetly. You pinned his hand above his head, still with their fingers intertwined, she returned his fervent kiss and swallowed every sound he made, moans and whines.

Dean always liked it when you held his hand during sex. It felt more intimate to him, it was so much better than the carnal connection between your private parts and his, it was perfect. Or when you stroked his hair while he was sleeping, or patted his thigh when you were sitting side by side.

Sometimes, loving actions were better than words.

"I-I'm close" he panted out between the kiss, moving desperately to reach his orgasm, wanting you to finish at the same time as him. "I- God, please, please, come with me- fuck!" he exclaimed, breaking the kiss and arching his back beneath you. Your fluttering walls were hugging him tightly, making him see stars. "P-Please, babe... do it with me..."

He mewled as his head tilted to one side, face contorted in pleasure, lips parted, red and swollen and eyes squeezed shut, his long cheeks caressing his sweaty cheekbones.

He was a sight for sore eyes.

"You're so good, De" you whispered, voice breathy, eyes fixed on his expressions, as you praised him. "I'm close too, baby" you warned him, your legs pushing you up and down with fervor.

Dean nodded at your words, licking his lips unconsciously, gripping your hip tightly, digging his fingertips on your soft flesh. Your walls squeezed him, your throat vibrating with your moans as your orgasm hit you like a truck, your warm juices pushing him to reach his own. He emptied himself inside of the condom, a low growl rumbling into his chest.

He had a nice tickling sensation after his climax, a light layer of sweat covered his hot skin, and a dumb smile decorating his face.

"You're amazing" he whispered, thumb caressing your knuckles, just like you did minutes ago. "I swear"

You smiled at him, a warm and loving smile, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on his lips, your free hand caressing his stubbled jaw and pulse point. He squeezed your hand, losing himself in the warmth of your skin, enjoying the peace you made him feel.

"You're amazing too, Dean"

[blakeswritingimagines]

Husk Spending Time With His Darling On Halloween

Word Count: 2.9k

Husk sat alone again in the hotel lobby, staring out the window. The faint sounds of party music and laughter could be heard from outside, but Husk preferred to ignore it. The clock ticked on the wall, the hands slowly moving towards midnight. Husk, who was usually a night owl, was already starting to feel sleepy. He glanced over at the door, wondering if anyone would come in for a drink tonight. The front doors suddenly opened, and you walked in. Husk raised an eyebrow at you. "Well, well, look who's up and about." Husk's voice is gruff, but there's a hint of curiosity in his tone. He leans back in his chair, waiting for you to approach the bar.

Making your way over to the bar, approaching Husk's sitting form. Your movements are confident, your steps purposeful. You take a seat next to him, letting out a soft dramatic sigh as you settle in. Husk looks at you as you make your way over and takes a seat, rolling his eyes as you let out a sigh. "What is it now, sweetheart?" Husk grumbles, his voice gruff, knowing what this was about considering you had tried several times now to get him to do something Halloween themed with you. "Oh, you know," you respond, your voice dripping with faux-innocence. You playfully nudge him with your shoulder, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. "Just wanted to remind you what we have planned tonight." You lean in closer, a conspiratorial gleam in your eyes. "Halloween is coming soon, and I'm not going to let you out of this costume party you agreed to last month." Husk groans internally, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. He had agreed to this party ages ago, and now he was being reminded of it. He mutters under his breath as you lean closer to him. "You're never going to let this go, are you?" Husk grumbles, turning his head to look at you.

You flash him a playful smile and gently poke his arm. "Of course I'm not! We have a reputation to uphold as the greatest power couple this city has ever seen," you declare, your confidence unwavering. "Just think of all the attention we'll get. Everyone will be jealous." You lean in even closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. "I already have the perfect outfit picked out, and you're just going to love it." Husk raises an unimpressed eyebrow, not convinced by your pep talk. "A reputation, huh?" He leans his head back against the bar's counter and lets out a long-suffering sigh, resigned to his fate. "So, what's the costume, then? Because I have a feeling I'm going to hate it." A wide smile spreads across your face as Husk expresses his distaste for the upcoming outfit. "Oh, don't be so down, grumpy pants," you tease, enjoying his reluctance. "Trust me, you're going to look so handsome, you'll forget you even hate the party." You take his rough chin in your hand, tilting his face towards you. "Now, are you ready to hear about your costume?" You lean in closer again, your eyes fixed on his and your voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "Just picture it," you say theatrically, "a classic monster. The most iconic, the most terrifying. Everyone will stop and stare!" You lean back, awaiting his reaction.

Husk tries to keep a straight face, but he can feel himself starting to crack at your over-the-top enthusiasm. He lets out another groan, shaking his head. "Oh my god, are you really going to make me dress up as a damn monster?" he replies, his tone a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement. Husk pauses for a moment before asking, "And what kind of monster are we talking about, sweetheart?" Your smile widens as Husk begrudgingly agrees to be a part of the costume charade. "You'll be the classic, the iconic," you say, your voice filled with glee. "The one and only…" You pause dramatically, building the suspense, waiting for Husk to guess. "Dracula," you announce, the word hanging in the air like a punchline. You can practically picture the look of horror and indignation on his face, but you know deep down he'll have a good time with this. Husk's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your announcement. "Dracula," he repeats, a mix of shock and incredulity flashing across his face. He lets out a bark of laughter, a sound laced with both astonishment and reluctant amusement. "You've gotta be kidding me," he says, shaking his head. "Dracula? Out of all the spooky figures, you pick Dracula?"

Your grin only widens as you revel in Husk' reaction. You know he's internally struggling with the idea, but you can see the hint of something else in his eyes - excitement. "I knew you'd come around," you tease, reaching out to tousle his hair affectionately. "And you're not the only one who'll be wearing a classic." You pause, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Care to guess who I'm going to be?" Husk lets out another sigh, resigning himself to his fate. He runs a hand through his messy black fur and glances at you with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "Alright, I'll bite." He says dryly. "Who are you going as?" A wide, devilish grin spreads across your face as Husk agrees to play along with your little game. You lean in even closer, your face almost touching his. "I'm going to be-" you pause, teasing him, drawing out the reveal, "the lovely and timeless…" once again, you pause for drama, drawing out suspense. Husk's face shows clear signs of irritation at being trolled, but you can tell he eagerly wants to know what he's actually agreed to. "The iconic…" you stop yet again, building the tension, just to prolong his curiosity. Husk's patience wears thin as you draw out the reveal yet again. He's practically bristling with irritation now, but he can't help but be intrigued by your antics. "For the love of-" he begins, his voice sharp with annoyance. "Who are you going to be, sweetheart? Stop toying with me and tell me."

Your smile widens, your eyes dancing with glee as you notice Husk's growing impatience. You know you have him right where you want him now. The suspense is killing him, and you know it. You hold his gaze for a few more moments, just to tease him a bit more, before finally dropping the bombshell. "The beautiful and iconic…" You pause, drawing the reveal out as much as possible, just to drive him crazy. When you finally reveal the answer, the air practically buzzes with anticipation. "The Bride of Dracula." Husk's jaw drops, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, he's rendered silent, as if your revelation has left him momentarily speechless. After a few seconds, he regains his composure, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "The Bride of Dracula? Seriously?" He asks, a hint of incredulity still lingering in his voice. He runs a hand through his fur and lets out another exasperated sigh. "You're absolutely ridiculous," he mutters, though his tone lacks the bitterness he had moments ago.

After hours of preparation, Husk and yourself are now dressed up for the costume contest, the night filled with anticipation and excitement. Husk stands across from you, adjusting the cape around his shoulders. Despite his earlier protests, he looks surprisingly sharp in his Dracula costume. He looks over at you, taking in the sight of your bride attire. His eyes roam over your form, taking in every detail. Husk tries to maintain a cool demeanor, not wanting to show how much he appreciated your choice. "So, you're the bride now, huh?" husk comments, his voice gruff. "You look…" he trails off, his eyes lingering on you for a moment too long. Husk clears his throat, turning his gaze elsewhere. "Not bad, I guess," he grunts, trying to keep up his tough exterior. You can't help but notice the slight falter in Husk's voice, the way his eyes lingered on you just a little too long. You know he's trying to keep up his cool demeanor, but there's a hint of admiration and…something else in his eyes. You can't help but smirk, enjoying the way he's trying to hide his true feelings. "Just 'not bad'?" you tease, taking a step closer to him. "Is that all you have to say about my costume?"

Husk tries to maintain his nonchalant air, but your smirk and the way you step closer makes it difficult. "Well, it's pretty damn good," he acknowledges grudgingly. His eyes flicker up and down your costume, taking in every detail, his gaze lingering on the way the fabric hugs your curves. "You look…" he pauses briefly, his voice trailing off as he tries to find the right word. "… good." A hint of grudging awe mixed in with his begrudging admission. Husk's cheeks flush slightly pink at your comment and he quickly glances away, pretending to be uninterested. He tries to maintain his cool facade, but he can't hide the subtle flicker of emotion in his eyes. "I mean, you look fine or whatever," he grumbles, his voice betraying just a hint of reluctant admiration. He clears his throat and continues in a neutral tone: "You did a good job, I guess." With the evening's activities now underway, the hall is buzzing with excitement. The costumes on display are extravagant and creative, but yours and Husk's are definitely among the most eye-catching. Husk is standing beside you, his hand casually resting on your waist. He glances at you, taking in your confident demeanor. He lets out a snort, pretending to be unimpressed, but you can see a hint of pride in his eyes. "So, are you ready to win this contest?" you ask, looking up at him.

Husk glances down at you, a small smirk on his face. "Win the contest? Pfft. Please." He scoffs, feigning arrogance. "I could go in there looking like a bag of garbage and we'd still win," he says confidently. "I mean, people will be voting for us because we're such a good couple, right?" He pats your back playfully, his hand lingering on your waist longer than necessary. You can feel a warmth spreading through your body as Husk' hand stays on your back, a subtle reminder of the intimacy between you. His confidence is endearing, but there's also a hint of uncertainty in his words. Deep down, he knows how much he cares about the outcome of this contest, even if he won't admit it. You flash him a playful grin. "Just a bag of garbage, huh? You think you can pull that off?" you tease. Husk rolls his eyes at your teasing and gives your waist a gentle squeeze. "Please, of course I can," he retorts, his tone cocky and sure of himself. "I've been compared to worse than a bag of garbage, sweetheart." He glances down at you, his expression softer than before. "Besides, with you by my side, I could wear a potato sack and we'd still come out on top, right?"

Your heart melts at Husk' words and the tender look in his eye. You can see the truth behind his confident exterior, the subtle vulnerability beneath the tough guy exterior. His hand on your waist is still there, resting against your body. It sends a shiver down your spine. You nod, flashing him a warm smile. "Absolutely," you agree. "A potato sack is too good for the other competitors. We'll show them what true greatness looks like." Husk returns your smile, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. He seems to be basking in the confidence and support you've shown. His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly, his body language betraying his true feelings. "That's right," he murmurs, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "We're the real deal, sweetheart. No one else stands a chance against us."

After the victorious conclusion of the costume contest, you and Husk return to the hotel room, feeling elated and satisfied. You plop down on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. Husk is right beside you, letting out a low sigh of relief. Husk, despite his initial reluctance, is now comfortably snuggled up by your side, one arm draped across the back of the couch, while the other hand holds a fistful of candied apples. His costume has been discarded, leaving him in his usual attire. You lean back against the couch, watching as Husk takes a large bite of his candied apple. His eyes are fixed on the movie playing on the TV, but his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lets out a content sigh, the sweetness of the candy sending his sweet tooth into overdrive. After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, his voice low and gruff. "So, uh, we did good tonight. Winning the contest and all." You glance over at Husk, taking in his nonchalant demeanor. His arm is still casually resting behind your head, the muscles in his forearm flexing slightly. You nod, a subtle flicker of satisfaction in your eyes. "Yeah, we did," you agree, your voice laced with a hint of pride. "But hey, we didn't even need the costumes to pull it off. We're a good team, you and I." You pause, glancing at him. "Though I gotta say, you looked pretty damn sexy in that costume."

Husk flushes a deeper shade of pink at your comment, a rare display of his bashful side. He clears his throat, pretending to be unaffected by your words. "Oh hush," he mutters, running a hand through his fur in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "You're just saying that because you've got a thing for guys in costumes." He rolls his eyes, but a subtle smirk still plays at the corner of his lips. You let out a light chuckle, amused by Husk' attempt to play it cool. It's adorable how flustered he gets at your compliments, despite his best efforts to remain nonchalant. You nudge his arm, your smirk widening. "Oh come on," you tease. "It's not my fault you look so damn good in that costume. But I guess you're right, maybe I do have a thing for men in costumes. Especially ones who have your… well, you know…" you trail off, letting the suggestive comment hang in the air. Husk huffs out a breath, his expression now a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. He scratches the back of his neck, pretending to be indifferent. "You're absolutely shameless, you know that?" He mutters, but there's a hint of admiration in his voice. He glances at you, unable to suppress a small smile. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy making me flustered." You let out a cheeky laugh, unrepentant in the least. "Of course I do," you admit shamelessly. "It's fun to see you fumble around like a flustered schoolboy. It's a nice change from your usual tough-guy act."

Husk watches you fondly, a mix of amusement and adoration in his eyes. He reaches down to take a piece of candied apple from the bowl, taking a small bite. "You know, most people would find you annoying," he muses, his voice a low rumble. "But somehow, I can't help but find you endearing." Husk leans back against the couch, his arm still resting behind your neck, his touch gentle but possessive. "It's like you know just how to get under my skin and make me want to both strangle you and hug you at the same time." Your heart melts at Husk' words, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You can feel the tenderness in his touch, the way his arm is wrapped around you. The contrast between his rough exterior and his gentle demeanor never fails to amaze you. You let out a soft laugh, your voice warm and affectionate. "I guess I'm just naturally charming, in a mischievous sort of way," you tease. You lean into his touch, savoring the closeness between you. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. I enjoy getting under your skin. It keeps things interesting… thanks for going along with tonight, by the way."

Husk rolls his eyes, feigning irritation, but you can tell that he secretly adulates your playful banter. He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Charmed, I'm sure," he says sarcastically. "You're just a regular little devil, aren't you?" He squeezes your waist gently, his grip firm yet affectionate. "And of course, sweetheart. Tonight was… nice, for once." He glances at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "I didn't hate it." Your heart flutters at Husk' confession, a flutter of affection in your chest. Despite his gruff exterior, you can tell that he genuinely enjoyed tonight. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he squeezes your waist gently, all hint at the soft spot he has for you. You lean into him, your body pressing against his side. "Heh, you didn't hate it, huh?" you tease softly, a playful smirk on your face. "That's quite an endorsement from the king of grumbling and complaining." Husk rolls his eyes again, a small grin playing on his lips. He can't help but find your playful banter endearing. He leans in closer to you, his hand finding its natural spot on your waist. "Don't get used to it," he mutters, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "I can only handle so much affection before I start to melt like a puddle." He glances at you, a hint of amusement in his expression. He pulled you closer into his side as you both relaxed for the rest of the night together.

[miraluking-respectfully]

*sits bolt upright* hang on a sec, i never used those cheebheads i drew for the like entire reason i drew them

blank version below the cut, feel free to use without credit

[tonycries]

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh. 

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit. 

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture. 

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do. 

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

“Yo.”

“Yes, Satoru?”

“You never had your first kiss, huh?”

Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 

You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 

Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.

He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”

“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 

“Why was that the thought that—“

“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”

You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”

He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”

Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.

“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”

Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“

A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 

“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“

“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 

“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”

“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”

“That’s…That’s not the point—“

“You’re deflecting!”

“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”

That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”

You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.

Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.

You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.

An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…

…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.

“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“

“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”

Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 

The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.

“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”

Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”

“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 

You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“

“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.

Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.

Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.

It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.

Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.

Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 

It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.

“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”

“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”

Yet again, another deception.

Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ‘o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.

Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 

“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”

It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”

“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”

“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”

“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”

I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”

“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”

You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”

“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”

“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”

God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 

“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.

Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 

The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.

“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”

Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[kurooh]

hey! could you please write something where the mha men catch you masturbating?

CAUGHT ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. he’s offended that you didn’t call him to make you cum.

⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, kirishima eijirou, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, masturbation.

— MIDORIYA IZUKU.

“baby, could i use your vibrator on you?” izuku pads towards the bed and sits in front of you, eyes meeting yours shyly. his freckled cheeks are pink and only turning a darker red as you take a moment to think.

“sure, ‘zuku.” you smile softly, spreading your legs and leaning back as he picks up your sticky wand. “you know how to use it?”

izuku shakes his head, “no, but i want to learn how.. i was watching you a little earlier.”

“oh..” your cunt twitches at the thought of him looking in on you masturbating — moaning his name, writhing on the bed in bliss. and knowing izuku, he was rock hard the whole time and palming himself through his pants.

“i’m sorry, baby, i couldn’t help it. you’re just so beautiful, and—”

“no problem, izu.”

he clears his throat and presses the vibrator to your puffy clit, and just the light pressure has you whining his name. when izuku switches it on, he accidentally turns it up to the highest level, causing your back to bow right off the bed as a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

without thinking much about the intensity of the vibrator, he presses it against your clit harder while nudging your closing thighs apart with his free hand.

“oh, izu, t-that’s too high, you need to turn it down!” your body twists on the bed, hips jerking, so he plants a scarred hand firmly on your pelvis to keep you as steady as possible. “it’s too much, fuck, i’m gonna—!”

“shh, i know baby,” izuku hushes your gasping moans and shaking voice easily, “i’m listening..”

— BAKUGO KATSUKI.

“what the hell?” as katsuki pulls the shower curtain open to reveal your shaking form, hunched and pressing the shower head between your thighs, he scoffs.

your back crashes against the shower wall behind you and dazedly, you look towards your affronted boyfriend who’s now stripping his clothes off.

“i thought we agreed to shower together tonight! here you are, without me and jerking off no less.”

“shut up and join me, katsuki,” not that he needed any convincing, but the blissed out expression on your face has him moving much faster. plus, you haven’t stopped using the shower head — you’re still moaning, his name falling from your lips in delicious whimpers.

“bend over, babygirl,” katsuki grunts, stepping into the shower beside you. “and give me that damn thing.”

he practically snatches it out of your loose grip, manhandles you forward a little more after you bend over. aiming the spray at the ground, he spreads your ass cheeks with one hand and presses himself into your dripping hole.

“fuck, fuck katsuki..” your chest heaves as you mewl, high pitched and needy. katsuki finally bottoms out with a husky groan, before he twists his hand and directs the shower head towards your quivering pussy.

his free hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb slipping into your mouth for comfort.

“katsu..” you cry, tears racing down your cheeks as your voice muffles. “so, so good!”

katsuki trembles against you before quickly developing a tempo and snapping his hips into your ass. all he can do is choke back sounds of pleasure as your walls squeeze him so hard his eyes roll back.

he musters the strength to lean over to press a wet kiss to the shell of your ear, chest pressed to your back. “god, i wish you could see just how fuckin’ perfect you look right now. such a mess for me— hah, shit.”

— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

“let me eat your pussy.”

before you can even turn around, eijirou is already bouncing on the bed and advancing towards you on his belly. surprised, you pull your sticky hands away from your pussy and loosely close your legs.

“eiji, what?”

“you heard me, baby.”

“wh— you didn’t even knock, and this is kind of embarrassing that you walked in on me like this!” your face burns as you stare at the redhead awkwardly, his eagerness making your thighs twitch.

“i’m sorry,” eijirou apologizes, hands gripping your thighs as he positions himself closer to you. “you’ll forget about it if i eat you out, yeah?”

when you nod shyly, he pulls your legs open and plants his hands on your asscheeks, dragging you into his face. before you can even register what’s about to happen next, eijirou’s lapping up your slick, tongue dragging through your folds and against your clit.

your eyes roll back, damp fingers twisting into his spiky hair and pulling hard, just how he likes it. he groans, face buried in your cunt, and the vibrations draw a few whines from your throat.

“eiji, l-little slower please, ‘m kinda sensitive..”

honestly, eijirou doesn’t really care if you’re sensitive from all your jerking off. it’s evident in the way he licks harder, slurping up more of your taste and locking you down with his arms so you can’t twist away, even if you’re overstimulated.

a particularly rough drag of eijirou’s silky tongue has you gasping out his name and panting quickly.

“mmm, mmmh— eiji, ‘m gonna cum!” soft red hair tickles your inner thighs as he nods, unbothered. a few more licks to your clit has you coming completely undone, thighs squeezing his head harshly when he continues, pushing his tongue into your twitching hole.

“i-i can’t, it’s too much!” you wail, tears building in your eyes as pleasure and pain flash through you together. after a moment, eijirou finally lets up, not even caring to wipe the wetness off his face.

he doesn’t hide the enthusiasm and smiles, sharp teeth glinting in the light.

“let me eat your pussy again?”

— TAKAMI KEIGO.

“aww, dove. could’ve let me know you were this needy,” the slightest rustle of feathers behind you as you’re pulled back into strong arms has your body tensing, dildo falling from your hand and onto the towel covered bed.

“i-i didn’t want to be a bother.. you were on patrol, kei,” your voice is barely above a whisper, face burning with some kind of embarrassment that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable situation.

gentle fingers brush beneath your chin as keigo tilts your head up, pressing his lips to yours for a chaste kiss. as it starts to deepen, tongues pushing between lips, a hand slides down the slope of your stomach and over the coarse hair at your pelvis.

“keigo,” you moan before he’s even reached your pussy and he chuckles, pulling away with a string of saliva briefly connecting his lips to yours.

“haven’t even touched you yet,” keigo comments wryly, corners of his eyes crinkling as you lean in for another kiss, legs spreading wider. you catch a glimpse of his vermillion feathers ruffling behind him before your eyes shut and you fall into pleasure.

thick fingers press inside you, pushing in and bottoming out rather quickly, thanks to your previous orgasms. as you’re reaching for your neglected clit, keigo swats your hand out of the way and replaces it with his own, thumb rubbing tight circles on it almost immediately.

“always so fuckin’ tight,” he hisses, scissoring his fingers in and out of you at a devastating pace. your hips thrash against the bed, pulling back from overstimulation and roughness yet also pushing towards him for more. your back is flush against keigo’s chest, asscheeks pressing into his crotch.

“god— fuck,” keigo’s chest heaves as he shifts closer to you, hard on grinding into your ass. “shit, now you’ve got me worked up, dove.. i’m bending you over after you cum, alright?”

[wickjump]

ok i rambled a lot in the tags and there’s a STUPID TAG LIMIT so my thoughts are CONDENSED and LAMEand not smart. but i could be. i could be if i wanted to. also the second half of this is literally me just talking about krepicolor im So sorry i got so off topic and distracted. the first half is good tho and makes sense i think

Why am I chill with most color ships but eh or 😡 and 🙄 or 🫤 on most killer ships

[kateschi]

back in action

synopsis: being the wife of bakugou katsuki comes with multiple benefits, one of which is a front-row seat to his scrumptious back.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i know at least 2/3 of you have seen that figurine

you swear there’s no better sight in this world than katsuki bakugou’s back.

not the view from your honeymoon suite in santorini, not the sparkling ocean from your vacation in okinawa—hell, not even the perfect strawberry shortcake you baked last weekend.

no, none of that compares to the sheer beauty that is your husband’s ridiculously broad, wonderfully sculpted, unfairly muscular back.

the way his muscles shift under his skin when he moves? art.

the ripple of strength as he stretches? divine.

the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders after an intense workout? a masterpiece.

and, as if the gods of attractiveness hadn’t blessed him enough, the scars that mark his skin only add to his allure.

each one tells a story of battles fought and won, of heroism that the world praises but he humbly shrugs off. to you, those scars aren’t just symbols of strength—they’re proof of his resilience, his dedication, his heart.

so, yes. you are absolutely obsessed with your husband’s back, and no, you don’t care how shameless that makes you.

“katsuki,” you call from the couch, chin propped up on your hands as you shamelessly watch him rummage through the fridge.

he’s in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, the waistband hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt? nowhere to be found.

a completely intentional choice on his part, because he knows exactly how weak you are for him like this. “did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the best back in the entire universe?”

he pauses, a carton of orange juice in one hand and an eyebrow raised in your direction. “you tell me that every damn day.”

“well, I mean it every damn day.”

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re such a weirdo.”

“damn right,” you shoot back, grinning when he snorts. “come here. let me look at it properly.”

“what, my back?” his expression is one part exasperation, two parts amusement as he shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “the hell do you need to ‘look’ at it for?”

“because it’s a work of art, obviously,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “and I haven’t had my daily dose of admiring you yet.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face like you’re the most exhausting person on the planet, but he still walks over to you without another word. you can tell he’s secretly enjoying this, though.

“alright, idiot. knock yourself out.” he turns around, presenting you with the full, glorious view of his back.

your eyes immediately light up. “oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“it’s a back,” he deadpans.

“no, no, no. it’s the back,” you insist, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers along the curve of his shoulder blades.

he tenses slightly under your touch—his body always reacts before his mind can catch up—but quickly relaxes as you continue your impromptu “admiration session.”

“you’ve got no idea how unfair this is,” you mumble, running your hands down the defined lines of his lats. “how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like this?”

“you’re ridiculous.” he’s shaking his head, but you can hear the way his voice softens, the way the edges of his usual gruffness smooth out when he talks to you like this.

it’s a few days later, and you're lounging on the couch, flicking through your phone when you hear him coming from the hallway, the sound of his footsteps heavy and deliberate.

katuski’s been in the gym for a couple of hours, and you can already hear the deep exhale he lets out as he moves closer, his breath still heavy from the workout.

"guess who's back," you say, looking up just in time to see him walking into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist, his body glistening with sweat from his workout.

he pauses for a moment when he sees your face—wide-eyed and full of admiration, already zeroing in on that perfect, chiseled back. his muscles tense as he moves, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"really?" he says, voice dripping with disbelief. "you still on about this?"

“can’t help it,” you say, setting your phone aside and leaning back against the cushions, fully prepared to watch him, unashamed. "I’m just amazed that someone like you exists in the world."

katuski rolls his eyes, but there's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his indifference. "yeah, well, quit starin'."

"I can’t help it," you reply, your voice a playful purr as you look him up and down. "I mean, who else looks this good after a workout?"

he tilts his head to the side, his signature scowl starting to form, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“quit actin’ like I’m some kinda showpiece, alright?” he grumbles, though you can hear the lighthearted edge to his voice.

you laugh, clearly enjoying yourself too much. "sorry, can’t help it.”

later that week, you and katuski are out on patrol, both suited up in your respective hero uniforms.

it's business as usual—rescuing civilians, stopping some petty criminals, and making sure the city is safe.

the sun’s setting, painting the skyline in beautiful oranges and purples, but you're still laser-focused on one thing: his back.

it's a total accident—really, it is—but when you're standing next to him after you’ve just subdued a villain, you can't help but sneak a glance at the broad expanse of his back.

you feel that familiar pull to reach out, to trace the powerful lines of his shoulder blades again.

“don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and gruff as he catches the glint of mischief in your eyes.

you smile innocently, taking a step closer. "what? I was just going to—"

"not here. we’re in the damn public," katuski growls, his sharp gaze snapping to yours as his fingers tighten around his gauntlet. "you really think I’m gonna let you paw at me in front of everyone?"

you laugh, unbothered by his obvious annoyance. "I’m not pawing at you, I’m admiring you. there's a difference, katsuki."

his jaw tightens as he glares at you, his usual frown deepening. "that’s the same damn thing."

you can’t help but grin, even though he’s clearly not having it.

but, deep down, you know that katuski secretly loves it. sure, he’s tough and grumpy in front of the public, but you both know how soft he gets when you're alone, how he indulges you without hesitation.

so, you take one last daring step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush along the fabric of his uniform.

he’s about to bark at you to stop, but you just flash him a quick, mischievous grin, and that’s all it takes for him to roll his eyes, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable."

and katsuki was right in his reprimand cause you were breaking the headlines the very next day.

for all the wrong reasons.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[reignpage]

Help Me Step-Bro!

Content: dubcon, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, anal

Step-Bro!Choso came with the new house and new husband. Your mother dated a pretty nice guys for about a year before jumping the gun and eloping. Now you have a whole new family: a new father and two new brothers. 

One of them is an adorable little boy, a little ray of sunshine who’s always eager to play and go on adventures. The other is a grungy emo a year older than you, with facial piercings, a tattoo running across his face, messy ponytails, and a sinful body. 

Step-Bro!Choso likes to walk around the house in just his boxers. Having come from an all-male household, he never felt the need to cover up. And though you’ve told him off so many times since you’ve all moved in together, three months ago, he never seems to remember. 

He leaves his room with ruffled hair and plaid pyjama trousers hanging dangerously low on his hips revealing a V-line leading to a place you’ve been trying really hard not to think about. And it’s so hard to when you’ve actually seen the damn thing, and good god, it’s huge -- he really needs to stop forgetting his towel when he comes out of the bathroom. 

“Sorry sis. I forgot again,” he gives you a sheepish shrug. “Bathroom’s free though!”

Step-Bro!Choso is touchy. He loves to cuddle. He does it with Yuji, with his dad, even your mother. Whether it’s just a side hug or one from the back, he does it with everyone, he even greets with his friends with hugs. But with you…

You swear it’s more than just an expression of familial affection. Your new brother doesn’t need to linger, his hands shouldn’t be gripping your hips, arms should not be circling your waist, pushing your tits up and bouncing them when he lifts you. And he really really shouldn’t be rubbing something hard against your ass. 

Step-Bro!Choso swears he can’t sleep when it’s thundering outside. He’s practically shaking when you open your door for him, and what kind of cruel monster would you be if you didn’t let him in? 

“It’s too loud. Can I stay with you for tonight, again?”

So, you lead him to your bed, letting him climb in behind you. His naked back warming your body, arms holding you tight against him whilst he buries his face into the crook of your neck. It’s his tears of fear that wet your skin and not the open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving there, nipping and sucking until your thighs are squeezing together. 

You feel his cold piercings against your skin -- the ones of his eyebrow, and oh no, the one on his tongue?

He pushes his own leg between yours, and his muscular thigh pressing right against your damp panties provides the perfect amount of friction for your throbbing clit. One of his hands creeps under your big shirt, cupping a tit there and letting the weight ground him. He doesn’t pinch your nipples like you’d like him to, just lets you ride his thigh for however long you need. 

Sleep finds both of you after your dull orgasm.

Step-Bro!Choso doesn’t correct people when they think you’re dating. You’d be shopping in a grocery store, his hand tucked inside your jean pocket, cupping your ass, letting you guide him through the aisles. When an elderly lady coos at you both, calling you a lovely pair, he does nothing but grin and bring you closer to press a kiss on your cheek. 

“Thank you! That’s so sweet.” 

He’ll have a smile on for the rest of the day. 

Step-Bro!Choso insists on teaching you how to swim. Tanning by the pool whilst he and Yuji play mermaids isn’t good enough, he says. So, you dip a toe in, testing the temperature, before completely submerging yourself. He comes up behind you, hands on your waist as he encourages you to trust him. 

“Come on! If I can teach Yuji, I can teach you,” he beams at you, his pinky finger tracing the hem of your bikini panties. “Plus, it’s an important skill to have, sis.”

Trusting him, you let his hands wander — he teaches you how to move your arms by guiding them, his hand presses on your stomach to ensure you know how to steady your breath, and he even holds your head down under water to so you know what your limits are. 

You try very hard to ignore that blush on his cheeks when you finally resurface, coughing and spluttering, and the way he's drawn to your heaving chest. Or the fact that his hands kneading your ass serves no educational function, nor does being topless. But he insists that it’s more 'hydrodynamic', that it helps to streamline you when there’s as minimal fabric as possible. 

“I swear, it’s true!” He says as he cups both of your tits under the water whilst your parents come out to the garden, flicking the tips and making the water ripple.

“What are you guys up to?” Your mother asks, more focused on reapplying sunscreen to Yuji’s face. 

Step-Bro!Choso is a good liar. He replies without missing a beat, “Just teaching my sis how to swim.”

Both of your parents seem very proud, likely pleased that everyone’s getting along. Little do they know, you’re getting along very well, if the hot length tucking itself inside your bikini bottom, rubbing along your cheeks, is anything to go by. 

Step-Bro!Choso is a medical expert. When you complain about a headache, instead of paracetamol and a glass of water, he gives you a hands-on service. He promises that it’s a natural and superior method of clearing one of ailments. And he’s older, so he knows more. Of course. As he’s listing off all the benefits, he’s lying you back on the sofa and pulling your shorts down, panties sliding down your legs. 

And then his mouth is on your pussy, licking and sucking all your juices like a man starved. He thrusts his tongue inside, curving it and allowing you to lose yourself to the pleasure, headache forgotten about. Your hands don’t know where to go but he guides them to his ponytails, humming in satisfaction when you don’t hesitate to pull him closer to your sloppy pussy. 

“God, I knew you'd taste as good as you look,” he mutters against your clit. 

There’s shuffling outside the front door and your eyes dart to the wiggling handle. Panicked, you’re trying to push his face away, hissing at him to let you go because your parents came home earlier than planned. 

Step-Bro!Choso only pins your thighs to the sofa with greater strength and dives into your cunt with increased fervour. He’s practically making out with your pussy, his eyes rolling back whilst he kneels on the floor, worshiping your body like he has no care in the world. 

“It’s okay, sissy. I locked the door and took their keys,” he whines into your clit, the vibrations wringing a silent moan from you, the metal ball on his tongue providing delicious friction. “Just cum before they find the spare key under the plant pot.”

And you do. 

Right as the door swings open, you’re being covered with a blanket, and your stepbrother is wiping his chin with his sleeve and offering to help his father with the heavy groceries, pressing a kiss right onto your mother’s cheek and never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Darling, why are you so flushed?” Your new father asks, his hand pressing against your forehead. 

Step-Bro!Choso yells from the kitchen, “Oh, she said she had a headache. But don’t worry, I took care of it!”

He sure did. And he continues to do every time you have a headache and even when you don’t. Sometimes, you’ll be in the kitchen, looking over the living room where your parents are watching TV, chopping vegetables across the kitchen island. He’ll come to offer his assistance and instead of sorting the boiling pot on the hob or setting the table, he, instead, drops to his knees again, pulls your shorts down, and stuff his face into your ass. 

You blame the wet noises of the pasta that is way past al dente by now when your mother asks what all the hubbub is. 

Step-Bro!Choso sits in the back of the car with you. Your parents are at the front, Yuji is in his car seat beside you, asleep, and your thigh is pressed against your older stepbrother’s ripped jeans. Whilst the two argue about the directions, he throws his jacket over your laps and leads your hand to his hard on. 

When you unzip his jeans and let his cock spring free, your eyes remain on your parents, scared they’ll see the odd placement of the jacket, the way you’re both blushing and biting your lips, and the fact that something is moving up and down, getting faster and faster underneath. 

“What do you guys want to eat?” His dad asks, pulling up to a fast-food chain. 

You reply, “Whatever’s good with me.”

And Step-Bro!Choso whispers in your ear, “My little sister’s pussy is the best taste in the world.”

Because of that, you have to drag his hand under his own jacket and into your panties, ensuring he wastes no time in curling them inside you to poke at the spongy spot that leaves you breathless and writhing. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit just as you thumb at his slit. You moan. 

“What was that?” Your mother asks. 

Step-Bro!Choso laughs. “I think she’s really hungry.”

“Well, you have to be patient because it’s going to take a while.”

He’s kneading your clit harder and faster, your chest rising and falling with every shallow breath, desperate to keep the noise down despite how good you’re feeling. But just as you’re about to cum, he slips his hand out and accepts the greasy bag of burgers and fries from his dad and digs in. 

Staring, aghast and all crazy, he ignores your glare and pops a fry into his mouth. He puts on a big show of sucking his fingers clean, his tongue getting deep between them. He groans, “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life!”

Step-Bro!Choso hates your guy friend. You’ve known him far longer than you’ve known your new brother and he’s always been welcome into your home. But for some reason, your usually sweet and kind stepbrother scowls and curses under his breath when he comes over. He even makes sure Yuji doesn’t interact with him, talking about 'stranger danger'.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom mid movie and when you enter, you’re being pushed deeper before the door closes and locks behind you. When you turn to look at your attacker, your vision is obscured by a face tattoo and glinting metal; he kisses you. It’s a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, but so damn good. 

Spinning you around, he pins your front onto the cold ceramic sink, your leggings pulled all the way off and you find your parties being stuffed in your mouth. 

“Don’t like that guy, sissy,” he pouts into your ear, spreading your wetness all over your thighs, almost as if he’s reminding himself that it’s all for him. “Want you all to myself.”

After he wrangles an orgasm out of you with his fingers, your moans muffled by the flimsy fabric of your thong, he’s pushing inside your sopping cunt with his fat cock. The stretch is delectable, it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, spine arching and ass thrusting back into him. 

"This pussy's all I've been thinking about, from the first time I met you," he confesses and it draws out your orgasm further.

Step-Bro!Choso pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, keeping you arched all pretty for him as he plunges again and again into your pussy, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cream on his cock in relentless waves, until you’re creating a ring of white at the base. 

"So -ngh- tight! Fuck, sis! Don't clench down on me, gonna cum!"

He can’t keep his eyes off you; your pussy won’t let him go, it’s sucking him back in with every thrust, every ramming and lunging of his hips. And your asshole is fluttering, winking at him, and he just has to thumb at it, tracing the rim.

“Hph, Cho!” You cry out through your panties. 

“Sorry,” he keeps repeating. “It was calling for me!”

You’re fucking yourself back onto him, meeting every thrust, and loving the sting of your scalp as he pulls at your hair. And when he pushes that thumb in, you cum all over his cock. Juices flying, he can only whimper and whine when his orgasm soon follows, his cum painting your walls white and burning his imprints there, marking his territory. 

Whimpering in your ear, he mutters, "Fuck! So good, so fucking good!"

Step-Bro!Choso doesn’t let you catch your breath before he kisses you again, muttering something indiscernible into your mouth, rolling that tongue piercing between you. You break away with a string of saliva, glistening under the light. And then he pecks your lips once last time with a happy hum. 

“You’re such a good sister,” he smiles toothily. And then he’s kneeling between your legs to slurp up the cum dripping from your gaping pussy, cleaning you up before he lifts the leggings back into the place and sends you off into your merry way. 

When you return, the movie’s long finished and your friend is packing up to go. 

“Y’know, I think your brother brought over a girl. They were really loud.” He’s frowning as he steps out into the front porch. “She sounded like a real slut. You probably shouldn’t let her be around your family.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice your blush, or the wet spot between your legs. 

He’s probably right; the girl in the bathroom, and in the car, in the kitchen, the living room, and the pool was a real slut. But she doesn’t care, because her brother’s taking very good care of her. 

And when Step-Bro!Choso appears in your bedroom late at night, when your parents and little brother, are dead asleep, you don’t hesitate to spread your legs so he can dive his face between them, licking up the cum that’s still leaking from your pussy. 

Who cares about family when you’re going to make your own tonight and every night from now on?

Certainly not Step-Bro!Choso who’s proposing when you get on all fours, face planted in the pillows and hands spreading your cheeks open for him so he can fuck your ass too. 

Being a big brother fucking rules!

[salemlunaa]

✰ TO SHIFT CONSCIOUSNESS YOU MUST MASTER THE ACT OF LETTING GO ✰

and not in the way you think i’m talking about…

You need to realise your desires are not far fetched, they aren’t even desires and were not desires the second you thought about them. They were yours the second you expressed a want for these things because for the millionth time, you’re the god of your reality and what you say goes.

Now when i say “let go”, im not referring to the fact that “you need to let go of the physical world” or “let go of your body” and bla bla bla, I mean you need to let go of the mentality that has been holding you hostage for quite a while

Having the perfect routine isn’t going to make a change unless you have mentally let go of this reality. Having affirmations that you repeat all the time won’t do shit if you don’t let go

Let go of the person who has tried everything and just can’t manage to tap in to the void/induce pure consciousness

Let go of the person who needs to check success stories just to feel something in order to motivate themselves

Let go of the person who likes doomscrolling for motivation when they would already be in their new reality if they tried

Let go of the person who is a failure

Let go of the person who has been trying for months/years to no avail

Let go of the person who needs to go to bloggers, coaches and outside sources and ask questions they damn well know the answer to

Let go of the person who just can’t

It can feel so validating to have these problems because so many people do, and you feel like you can relate to others with these issues and it makes you feel good, it makes you feel validated to reaffirm these problems and have others comfort and coddle you. I know you want advice, you’re frustrated and want to vent. I know you want people to talk to and cry with, because, again, it makes you feel seen and validated. But where is that feeling of validation gonna lead you? to 2026, 2027 even 2028, still saying the same things? still affirming that you’ve been in the community for years and nothing works for you?

You need to let go of that miserable person, you are “I AM” you need to take your consciousness and take your awareness away from that miserable person and shift them to the person who can tap into the “i am” state with ease

shift your awareness to someone who can induce pure consciousness within seconds

to someone who gets whatever they want

to someone who can do all

to someone who doesn’t know the meaning of failure even if it hit them in the face

if you don’t let go you’re never gonna leave, you need to sit with yourself and be honest, have you let go of the person with unfavourable circumstances? have you shifted awareness to the person who is all you want to be, better yet all that you are? You are “I AM”, just decide that you aren’t that person anymore and immediately your consciousness and awareness will shift to who you now are. You can BE anything because you ARE everything.

And as “I AM”, as a god, you can choose where to place your consciousness and where to place your awareness, that’s all shifting is, placing your awareness and consciousness in the reality that is desired, not some huge extravaganza. Shift your awareness to someone who can do all things, and that is who you will be, this law cannot fail.

misery loves company, don’t stay in the club simply because it validates and comforts you, remove yourself and place yourself in that of who you want to be.

DETACH FROM WHAT YOU KNOW, TO BE WHAT YOU WANT 🍨💋

[cursedyuri]

a/n: surprise! here’s a little somethin’ while i work on my next fics. mwah mwah happy saturday!

cw: 18+ as always, minors dni. sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral sex (e receiving), choking, tribbing, some…controlling aspects, multiple orgasms

ellie’s got it bad for you.

so bad, she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed when jesse and dina catch her staring at you in the middle of band practice, eyes glazed over, nodding along with whatever they’re saying even when she’s got nothing in her head but you you you.

it’s frustrating sometimes, what you do to her. she’s less efficient as a songwriter and guitar player—always casting glances at you in the middle of practice, chewing her lip till it damn near bleeds because it’ll keep her from making a mess of her boxer briefs. always picturing your pretty lips around her strap, you kneeling before her while she face-fucks you till you gag and choke. always tilting her head when you stand up from your seat beside her, going off to rifle through your purse for something, just praying she’ll get a glimpse at your panties when your skirt rides up.

when the rest of the band filters out and it’s just you two, she gets you in her lap, kissing you silly. you’re so perfect in her arms, smiling shyly when she pulls back and covers your face in chaste, adoring kisses.

“we should go,” you say, glancing at the clock on the wall. she frowns and you catch it, adding, “i really need to study, finals are next week.”

“you’re gonna kill ‘em, babe,” she assures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. your cheeks go pink. she could eat you whole. “smartest girl i know. smartest person, actually.”

you giggle, a sound that makes ellie’s stomach flip. and then your expression shifts from carefree to hesitant, and she furrows her brows. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, i’m sorry—i was gonna ask if you wanted to help me study? i have flash cards.”

ellie grins. “i can do flash cards.”

it’s not the first time ellie’s been at your house, but it is the first time she’s pulled into the driveway and noticed that your parents aren’t home. she casts a glance at you in the passenger’s seat while she pulls the keys from the ignition, but if you notice that she’s wondering about the lack of two mercedes in the driveway, you don’t let on. you give her one of those sickeningly sweet smiles and her heart hammers.

inside, you stop in the kitchen to fix a couple glasses of pink lemonade with twisty straws and fresh lemon slices, then lead her up the stairs to your bedroom. ellie tries (and fails) to avert her eyes from the place where your thigh-highs squish into the meat of your legs, the skin pooling out of the fabric good enough to eat. she has to think about the worst things to keep her cunt from throbbing. dead puppies, shit like that.

“i’m so stressed,” you confess as you open the door to your bedroom, ellie striding in behind you.

“why, princess? you’ll do great.” she takes her glass of lemonade when you offer it, sips from the straw and beams at you.

your room suits you perfectly. all shades of white and pink, floral print everywhere, heart-shaped pillows, cute bunny plushies organized carefully on the bed. it smells like sugar cookies and your perfume. ellie watches you locate your study materials, then sort through them till you find the necessary flash cards. she starts looking through them while you climb onto the bed, your skirt riding up to expose a new sliver of your thighs. if there is a god, he’s got it out for ellie today.

“come here, el,” you pout, holding out your hands for her.

“don’t be impatient, now.” she joins you on the bed despite her better judgment. looks down at the flash cards and struggles to read the first one because her blood is rushing south at a dizzying rate.

“uh—eukaryotic cells.”

“cells which have a nucleus enclosed within the nuclear membrane.”

ellie gapes at you. “okay, smarty pants, you got it. prokaryotic cells?”

you answer and she shuffles through to the next card, continuing to prompt your spot-on definitions until it becomes clear that you’re more than ready for your final. it only takes five minutes to make it through the entire stack of cards. and then you’re asking her to kiss you.

“baby,” she mutters, leaning over the side of the bed to set the flash cards onto the floor, “i’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

just like every other time, your mouth tastes like heaven. sweet from the pink lemonade, your tongue dances over hers, soft moans leaving your lips for her to swallow eagerly. the two of you have made out more times than ellie can count on both hands, but it never leads any further. something always comes up—you have to get to bed, dinner’s ready downstairs, things like that. more often than not, you stop because ellie feels like she’s going to lose control of herself and scare you away.

but this time, it’s different.

your hands, soft and warm, skate up ellie’s tattooed arms. your perfectly manicured nails rake through her hair. your eyes are blown nearly black with lust when you pull away, staring up at ellie like you’re silently begging to be fucked.

“ellie,” you whisper, frustrated by the sliver of mattress that separates the two of you.

“yeah, yeah, angel, i’ve got you.” she closes the gap, climbing between your spread legs until she’s hovering over you. she nudges her nose against your cheekbone. “so pretty underneath me.”

and god, you are so pretty underneath her. white off-the-shoulder top skewed from her touches, lips swollen, soft locks of hair splayed around your head. that look in your eyes that says i’m yours, please take me. she wants to hear you scream her name.

the lewd, wet sounds of your make-out sesh go right to her cunt; she doesn’t even realize she’s grinding down against you until she feels your hips move in response, in search of friction. the sensation draws a ragged moan from her, and then she’s grabbing at your thighs with a touch that will certainly bruise. you won’t be wearing a skirt this short tomorrow.

“take this off,” you breathe when you pull back from the heated kiss. you’re tugging at her tattered band tee. “and your pants.”

a surprised huff of laughter leaves her lips. “whoa there, sweetheart. you sure?”

her eyes find yours. she’s just as turned on as you are, but she can still stop while she’s ahead. now, if you get her down to her boxers? that might not be so easy to come back from.

you stare back at her, unblinking. “i’m sure.”

sitting back on her heels, ellie keeps her eyes on you while she works her shirt up over her head. she revels in the way your eyes leave hers, only to admire the sight of her naked torso, her ample tits with dusty rose nipples. your tongue swipes over your lips. her clit twitches.

she has to get up to take her pants off, and when she does, she notices that you’re not making any efforts to undress yourself. she stops with her belt unbuckled, button undone, zipper pulled down. “what, i don’t get to see my girl naked?”

“only if you’re good,” you say with a wicked smile. it catches her off guard, hearing a comment like that from you, but it does encourage her to push her jeans down to her ankles.

when she gets back on the bed and kisses you again, you’re not as soft. not as pliable, like putty in her hands. no, you’re insistent—your tongue breaches her mouth almost instantly and you lick into her until he’s nearly panting. you’re sitting up in your disheveled clothing, holding her face and kissing her like you’re going to swallow her whole. given the fact that you’re usually the one on the receiving end of kisses like this, ellie’s surprised. she breaks the kiss and gives you a look - one you feign ignorance to.

“i’m—sorry, am i reading this wrong? i thought… aren’t you a virgin?”

you smile at her, eyes heavy-lidded. “oh, ellie, baby.”

the way you sound makes her go dizzy for a second. sultry, raspy, sexy. your voice must’ve dropped a couple octaves. you’re not a virgin, she suddenly realizes, not even close. not when you’re dipping your head into her neck and smothering her with hot, wet kisses, your hand moving to grope at the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric of her boxers, fingertips tracing heavy over the outline of her pussy. a moan leaves her lips before she can think to stifle it. worse, she bucks her hips up to chase your touch.

you suck your teeth. disapproving.

“eager, aren’t you?” you move to climb off the bed, kneeling beside it. the sensation of your fingers, skating right over the waistband of her boxers, makes her whimper. she whimpers.

“baby, you’re killing me,” she chokes out. you run a french-tipped nail over her sparse happy trail. she bites her lip.

“i know,” you respond, and your voice is still sickly sweet. “but i’ll take care of you, el. don’t you want that?”

she’s not sure what that means exactly, but she finds herself nodding quickly.

turns out that it means eating her pussy like a fucking porn star.

you’d ripped off her boxers in one swift motion, then spit a glob of saliva onto her flushed, aching clit. wasting no time at all, you’d slid your fingers through her cunt with the lubrication of your own spit, and finally, when she didn’t think it could get better, you’d put your mouth on her. and that’s what it’s been like for the past few minutes. you’re tongue-fucking her now, face buried so deep between her legs she can’t imagine how you’re not gasping and sputtering for air.

“jesus christ, babe,” she gasps, involuntarily thrusting her hips up. your tongue pushes further into the constricting heat of her cunt and she throws her head back, overcome with bliss. but then you’re pulling back, mouth leaving her soaked pussy. the loss makes her whine again.

“wh—what happened?” she’s dazed.

“you’re being a fucking brat,” you respond as you rub a hand over your mouth to wipe away the wetness. “can’t just let me eat you out, huh? have to push it. god, ellie.”

you sound genuinely pissed off, so she flushes red with embarrassment and gives you an apologetic look. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t—”

“—couldn’t control yourself?”

she stares, mouth hanging open. you laugh, a humorless chuckle. and then you’re standing up, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties down your thighs.

“listen, baby,” you say as you step out of your underwear and move to straddle your girlfriend’s thighs. “if we’re gonna fuck, you need to learn how to control yourself. be a good girl for me. can you do that?”

in all of her daydreams about your first time having sex as a couple, she’d never imagined this.

“yes,” she hears herself say. “i can do that.”

“do what?”

“i can…” ellie’s cunt weeps another rush of wetness. “i can be a good girl.”

satisfied, you reach down to swipe your fingers through her folds—still sticky and wet from your unfinished head. “when i ride you, i don’t want to hear a sound. okay?”

“o-okay.” she’d agree to anything at this point. she’s under a trance. your rose-scented, strawberry-flavored hypnotism.

when you finally slide into a comfortable position, bare, soaked cunts sliding against one another, she bites her tongue so hard she swears she tastes blood. a strangled, ragged sigh leaves her nose, nostrils flaring as you lift your hips and move them back again. you’re wet, soft, and skilled with your hips. everything she’s dreamed of and more. she wants to moan your name, but the way you’re looking at her, like a siren ready to drag her underwater, it keeps her from making a single fucking peep. she lets you take what you need, content to stare in awe as your tits bounce beneath your pristine white shirt.

“doing so well for me,” you praise, hips circulating in a good rhythm now. “you can talk, baby—tell me, how’s my pussy feel?”

“fuuuuck,” she practically wails, “you’re so good, god, feels s’fucking good.”

“mm,” you hum. you’ve found a rotation to hit a spot that fills you with white-hot pleasure, and each time you lift your hips and rub against her again, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to an orgasm. “your cunt feels good, el. might come soon, would you like that?”

she nods. you can feel her hips twitch, like she’s dying to fuck herself up against you, but you’re so close to the edge that you don’t have it in you to chastise her. you do, however, have it in you to tell her, “beg for my cum, then. be a good girl, you said you’d be a good girl.”

“please,” she gasps, feeling your cunt twitch against hers, “please, baby, need your cum.”

she’s getting close too, so she doesn’t feel embarrassed that you’ve got her whining, desperate for you to cream all over her. it’s hot, actually, the fact that she’s begging for you. her sweet, innocent little girlfriend, giving her the ride of her life and making her beg for you. she’d never considered this. stupid of her.

emboldened by her impending orgasm, ellie reaches for one of your hands and moves it from her shoulder to her throat. her eyes are wide and pleading when you look down at her. relief overcomes her features when you adjust your grip and then squeeze, her pulse thudding beneath your fingertips.

this is new for her. it’s all new for her. but when you come with your hand around her throat and your cunt sliding, drenched, against hers, she can’t help but scold herself internally for not doing this sooner. you don’t whimper or cry when you come, but you do say her name, drawing it out in that low, gravelly voice of yours that she hadn’t heard until today. and that’s enough for her to reach her own high, coming with a ragged groan. a mistake that she doesn’t process until she’s spent, panting, still dizzy with the fading pleasure that leaves her in waves.

you’ve gone still on top of her.

she looks at you and finds your expression displeased.

“i’m—shit, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, sweetheart, I really wasn’t thinking.”

“i can tell,” you say, voice flat. she moves to lift you from her lap, intending to get up and clean you both up, but you swat her hands away. “did i say we’re done?”

she stutters for a second before she can get out real words. “no, you…didn’t.”

“i can tell you’re going to be a tough one,” you sigh, “but you’ll learn.”

and with that, you start moving your hips again. the overstimulation on ellie’s still-sensitive clit makes her jolt, but one pointed look from you has her going still again. your hips form slow, narrow circles. cum seeps out of your cunt and leaks down onto hers.

after an agonizing minute or two, the pain of overstimulation melts into pleasure. you notice ellie’s expression change, a wrinkle forming between her brows again.

“there’s a good girl.” your praise is music to her ears. her lips open to allow her to breathe as heavy as she needs to, heaving gasps that go straight to your sopping cunt. you gush even wetter.

“mmph, fuck,” ellie groans. she shoots a worried glance up at your domineering face, but when she finds that you’re gazing down at her with unbridled lust in your eyes, she relaxes again.

“you can make as much noise as you want now, pretty girl,” you assure her. “i wanna hear how good i make you feel. even when you’ve—mm, even when you’ve been a bad girl. and you don’t deserve it.”

if she weren’t already turned on again, she is now. you start to ride her in earnest again, fucking down onto her in a rhythm that has the entire room ringing out with sounds of skin slapping against skin. she grabs your hips to hold herself steady, but then you push her shoulders until she falls back onto the mattress. your hands grab her wrists, and she’s entirely unsurprised when you pin them above her head and ride her faster, harder—she’s unsurprised, but it still makes her cry out in pleasure.

“baby, i need you to apologize,” you coo down at ellie as you continue your relentless riding.

“h-huh?”

“apologize for coming without permission,” you clarify, voice just a little strained.

“oh,” ellie says. her brows are pulled together; her face is all twisted up in an absolutely sinful expression, one that makes your cunt feel impossibly wetter. “i’m sorry, babe, i already said sorry.”

“then say it again, if i tell you to.” you lift your hips until you’re barely touching her, and when she starts to sputter pathetic, whiny apologies in an endless stream, you drop your greedy cunt back onto hers.

“you really are a brat,” you tell her. it’s getting harder to talk to her like this, straight-faced and patronizing, because you’re getting close again. but you steel yourself and go on. “such a bad girl, what should i do with you, hm?”

“anything,” ellie blabbers, wrists flexing in your grasp, “i’ll do anything—i’ll let you do anything to me.”

“oh?” you smile, still gasping lungfuls of air, exhausted but chasing your second climax. you lean forward and lick along the angle of ellie’s jaw, up up up to her ear. she shivers violently as you whisper, “you’d let me fuck your tight little hole?”

you can’t see her face with your mouth against her neck, kissing and sucking and biting at her sensitive skin, but you imagine that she looks shocked. and you don’t blame her. you’ve got your good girl act down, you have for years. and ellie fell for it, bless her heart. she probably thought this would go differently; probably imagined she’d be the one overstimulating you and making you whine and beg and whimper, shaking like a leaf as you near another orgasm. but here you are.

and you’re glad she so obviously likes it.

“yes,” ellie hisses through her teeth. “yes, yes, i’d—you could fuck me, whatever you want.”

“bet you’d love it,” you tell her honestly. “you’d love having your pretty pussy stuffed with my cock, wouldn’t you?”

you’re practically dripping sweat at this point from the exertion of tribbing, clothes clinging to your body with perspiration. under your skirt, ellie’s pelvis is drenched with sex.

“yessssss,” she cries out, eyes squeezing shut. “i’d l-love it, yes, fuck…”

“are you gonna come for me, pretty girl? you can—you’ve already made such a mess.”

she’s nodding, gasping. crying, even. you don’t notice until she sniffles, drawing your attention to her reddened face. her cheeks shine with tears. you coo a gentle good girl at her and she lets a high moan loose.

“come, el. come for me.”

she doesn’t need much encouragement, she really doesn’t, but your command pushes her over the edge. coming with a cry that nearly tears her throat apart, she shakes and shivers in your hold until you finally let up and slow your rolling hips. ellie looks so beautiful when she comes, and right after, too. dazed, pussy drunk, eyes foggy. lips chewed raw. tears still wet at the corners of her eyes.

“you didn’t come again,” she points out. she sounds so small.

“i know,” you agree. “but you can fix that, sweet girl.”

finally releasing her wrists from your grip, you roll onto the bed beside her on your back. you reach a hand between your legs and swipe your fingers through the puffy folds of your cunt, releasing a satisfied hum when you feel how soaked you are.

you’re surprised when you look up and find her already making her way between your legs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“i can fix it,” she repeats. “can i taste you?”

“oh, ellie,” you say, “i knew you’d be a good girl. go ahead.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

PLS PLS DO THIS WITH KOOK!READER X RAFE AND THEYRE MARRIED AND THEYRE JUST THE HOTTEST COUPLE https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSjHYPTHf/

Low life || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

GIF by @tetragonia

A/n: shut up I’ve seen that tiktok before and he was sooooooooooooo giving buzz cut Drew but with a mo. This is the tiktok btw

Warnings: nothinggg

Word count: 862

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Let me see it again!” Sarah’s voice rings out with excitement as she reaches for your hand, practically bouncing in place. You laugh softly, extending your fingers toward her, the diamond catching the light in a dazzling display. Her eyes widen dramatically as she gasps, clutching your hand closer.

“Holy fuck, did it grow overnight? I swear it wasn’t this big the last time I saw it!” She twists your hand slightly, examining every angle of the ring as though it’s a rare treasure. “It’s still the same size, Sarah,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head at her theatrics.

Rafe, standing just behind you, smirks at her reaction before slipping his arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. “She just can’t believe her brother has good taste for once,” he teases, earning an eye roll from Sarah. “You’re not wrong,” Sarah quips, still transfixed by the enormous diamond sparkling on your finger.

“But seriously, this thing is insane. Did you blind someone to pay for it, or…?” Rafe chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “I just know what she deserves,” he says smoothly, his voice low and affectionate. You tilt your head back to look at him, a warmth blooming in your chest as his smirk softens into something more genuine.

Sarah, ever the romantic, places a hand over her heart. “God, you two make me sick. But that ring? That makes me jealous.”

~

A gasp escapes Sarah as she sits across from you and Rafe at the patio table, her expression somewhere between shock and amusement. “What now?” you ask, pausing mid-motion on Rafe’s lap as you toy with the collar of his polo shirt.

“You need to do this TikTok with Rafe,” she announces, eyes lighting up mischievously. “I’ll send it to you—it’s perfect.” A laugh bubbles out of you as you unlock your phone, curiosity piqued. “Another TikTok?” Rafe groans dramatically, throwing his head back with exaggerated exasperation.

“Oh, don’t even start, babe,” you tease, shooting him a knowing look. “Don’t act like you don’t love it. You’re always asking me how many views we’ve gotten, and let’s not forget—you’ve gone viral countless times.” A smirk tugs at the corner of Rafe’s mouth despite his attempt to keep up his act of disinterest.

“I don’t ask—I just overhear you bragging about it.” “Sure, sure,” you say with a grin, nudging his shoulder. “Don’t let that ego of yours fool anyone. You love the attention.” Sarah snickers, scrolling on her phone. “She’s not wrong. You’re basically the face of TikTok Kook couples now.”

Rafe groans again, this time quieter, as he leans back in his chair, muttering, “What did I sign up for?” But the way his hand says squeezes your thigh and his arm pulls you closer to him says it all—he doesn’t actually mind. You watch the TikTok, the beat of Low Life already stuck in your head as the trend plays out.

A grin spreads across your face as you glance between Sarah and Rafe. “This is perfect,” you say, excitement bubbling in your voice as you immediately click on the audio to start recording. Rafe, lounging back in his seat, gives you a skeptical look. “Alright, what am I doing this time?”

“You’re doing what this guy is doing,” you explain, holding your phone up to show him the video. “When it says ‘sniper,’ you show your ring, and when it says ‘wifey,’ I show mine. Easy.” Rafe leans back, smirking as he looks at the video. “Oh, that’s what this is about? You just want another excuse to show off the ring I gave you.”

“Damn right I do,” you reply with a grin, repositioning your phone to get the angle just right. “Now stop stalling. We’re doing this.” You hit record, aiming the phone at Rafe as the music starts. He rolls his eyes playfully but immediately begins to lip-sync, leaning into his role. He raises his hand, casually flashing the sleek band on his finger, his lips curling into a smirk as he lip-syncs, “Sniper, sniper, sniper, sniper, sniper.”

His eyes gleaming with confidence. You then move your phone to you, seated confidently on his lap, your diamond ring sparkling in the sunlight as you raise your hand and mouth, “Wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey.” Your gaze is playful yet proud, Rafe watching you intensely on your phone.

The video ends as the beat fades, and you immediately hit stop, glancing up at Rafe with a satisfied grin. He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re too good at convincing me to do these things.” Sarah claps her hands together, already reaching for your phone. “You two are ridiculous,” she says, grinning. “But also ridiculously good at this. TikTok is going to eat this up.”

You laugh, leaning into Rafe as you start trimming the video to perfection. “They’d better,” you reply, your voice teasing. “We’re setting the standard for Kook couples, officially the blueprint now.” Rafe hums, his arm sliding around your waist. “Anything for you, wifey,” he murmurs, low enough for only you to hear, making your cheeks flush despite yourself.

[xazse]

Pls breeding with hybrid Gojo. You can chose whatever, I just need to see this 😭😭🙏🏼 where Suguru leaves them and thinks all will be good and they’ll behave only to find out months later ups, there’s a baby!

Warnings. Breeding + Puppyhybrid!Satoru x PuppyHybrid!Reader + fem!reader + pregnancy + not proofread + (I don’t know how to write for babies 😭) dunno if I like the ending it feels kinda sad? Lmk and I’ll revise it.

“Toru, Toru you can’t…”

“Please just this once, feels’ really good doesn’t it?”

“Suguru will get mad”

Here Satoru was balls deep inside of you begging to take the condom off, he hadn’t ever asked before so why is he so curious right now? The little snake chose the perfect time to ask when you’re so vulnerable, under him taking his thick cock and he’s facing you and you’re a sucker for Satoru’s sweet pout.

“Suguru isn’t here, he won’t know promise.”

“Satoru-“ He starts decorating your faces with kisses and whimpering how badly he wants to really feel you. The way he’s biting your neck is making you lose all sense of responsibility.

“Okay Toru but just this once, never again.”

He wastes no time in removing the condom and lining himself up with your weeping hole again, his tip pushes past again and god does it feel so damn good when he’s fully inside of you, you can feel every ridge and every vein of his thick cock.

Satoru doesn’t fair any better four strokes later and the hybrid is spilling inside you, it’s not a weird feeling either, it felt right? It feels really good.

That one time turns into many times during that same week, Satoru pumping you full with his cum over and over, you can’t say no because you like it just as much as he does.

Right now Suguru can do nothing but stare ahead at you in the hospital bed and Satoru on your side: holding a little baby.

He can’t do anything but stare at the little baby in your arms with Satoru’s white colored hair and your matching eyes, he stares at an exhausted you cuddling the little thing up to your face and showing the baby off to all the nurses in the room.

Suguru is going goddamn insane in his mind. he’s remaining calm as to not ruin the atmosphere, he’s trying his hardest not to yell at you and Satoru for something he made sure was perventable.

The baby is a girl you both decided to name “Aya” Suguru wont say it out loud but Aya is an adorable cutie, she has her little ears and an equally small tail that matches yours.

A few days later you’re discharged, he knows you and Satoru can now feel how heavy the air is, the drive home is quiet save for Aya’s light snoring.

“Suguru-“

“How exactly and where are we meant to put her?”

You and Satoru go silent as he goes on his smidge

“I can’t believe-“ he can’t even finish his sentence he’s so appalled at the audacity, he feels like a disappointed father right now and you’re both around the same age as him! How is that possible?!

You both look way different than you did at the hospital right now, wearing a sorrowful expression that differs from the bright smiles you had because of the birth of your daughter.

It’s too late to go back in time so Suguru has to suck it up and help with parenthood.

[raestromboli]

plug!chris catching you riding his pillow ᡣ𐭩

coming to your place after a long day of dealing was a natural thing for chris to do. so when he and some of his friends that tagged along with him had no more clients left, they suggested an evening at some fancy restaurant to spend their money. chris, of course, quickly waved them off because he wanted to spend his time with his pretty little girlfriend after being so busy the past few days.

so imagine the surprise he felt as soon as he heard the most lewd noises coming from your bedroom . . noises that he’d recognise anywhere.

he feels like a perv, but that’s the least of his worries.

chris peeks through the small gap between the doorway and your conveniently opened door; it’s just enough for him to see just how perfect you look. the pillow, the one he usually sleeps on, between your thighs, a wet spot visible on its pillowcase, your tits free from any restraint, with your finger cradling them gently, and your face . . . fuck, your face.

your have the most vulgar expression imaginable. god, you’re better than any wet dream he ever had. your face is tilted to the side, eyes closed with pleading brows pinched upwards. your cheeks were dusted with the prettiest shade of red. his fresh love hoodie is bunched up and being held up by your teeth to expose your pretty tits bouncing every grind of your hips you take, and you’re letting out the cutest little muffled whines and moans.

it’s no surprise that your boyfriend gets hard instantly, hands flying to his crotch with no hesitation as he unzips his pants, sliding down just enough to take his cock out. his bony fingers wrap around his leaky cock and hisses lowly. his eyes were solely trained on printing the beautiful image right into the depths of his mind.

a pitiful pout grows on his lips. he can tell that you’ve been going at it for a while now from how much you’re panting and how you lean forward on your hands every other minute because of the annoying, yet delicious burn in your fleshy thighs, and chris wishes he could be under you instead of that damned pillow, holding you down because he knows how much you squirm on his dick and pistoning his hips into you just right.

there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s definitely not going to do that, but chris wants to savor the thrill of this a little bit too . . . wants to watch you pleasure yourself without him.

you roll your hips so expertly that chris feels even more jealous of that inanimate object, imaging your slick stained on the pillow glistening on his dick instead. the hurried movements, how you know when to push down further and how to keep the steady rhythm, how your face twists in exquisite pleasure with no care for the world—your boyfriend can barely stop himself from cumming right then and there.

chris strokes himself to match the roll of your hips, teeth digging in his bottom lip helplessly as he feels himself getting closer, just like you do. your hips get more erratic, humping the pillow faster and faster while your muffled whines get louder and longer. chris grips the doorway with his free hand to not go through it and disturb you, completely head over heels from how fascinating you look.

the only thing he’s late to realise is that you’re not even watching anything lewd to help you reach your high, and that becomes clear when you start crying out his name in a high-pitched tone that makes him go weak in the knees.

he thrusts into his own fist uncontrollably, but reluctantly gains the ability to stop himself only after seeing your heavenly closed eyes open, the fucked out look taking over your face as he grips his shaft tighter to not cum in the hallway right then and there.

you cum with a strangled cry of his name, gripping the sheets with shaky hands to ground yourself.

you came thinking about him. that alone makes chris wonder if he should kick his feet up high and giggle like a schoolgirl or burst into the room and fuck your sensitive pussy ‘til your cum completely coats his cock. he chooses the latter.

you pant heavily, little moans slipping past your lips as you lazily rock your hips against the pillow. chris doesn’t let you bask in the post-orgasm haze, however, because he’s barging into your room unceremoniously. with zipped pants of course!

squealing in surprise, you yank your blanket over your body, nervously looking at him with big, startled eyes while he casually strolls over to your bed, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and keen eyes focused only on you.

“chris. . i-i can explain!” you try to reason, but when your boyfriend simply smirks at you, you know you should stop talking.

“explain riding my pillow?” he’s only teasing, but it still makes you stutter and stumble over your words. you pout for moment, pulling your hoodie over your body before curling further into your blanket in sheer embarrassment. there’s an apology spilling out of your lips, but chris tuts at you condescendingly as he grips onto the blanket and pulls it away from you.

“fuck you lookin’ at? i want you to do it again.” there’s a smirk rising on his lips as he watches your eyes widen and your lips part to protest.

“but!—“

“nah, you wanna be a slut and ride my pillow. all i’m asking is for you to do it again, a’ight? then maybe, i’ll fuck you if you’re good.”

[defmaybe]

That's So True

12 Days of Christmas: Day 10, January 3rd, 2025

aespa’s Uchinaga Aeri/Giselle & Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

5.3k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chatterings of the party goers fill the house, with a faint hint of Gracie Abrams’ That’s So True hanging in the air. The place reeks of cheap perfume (you added the cheap part by yourself, you really don’t know which is expensive and which is not), beer, and rum.

You’re somewhere in the house, playing a game with your friends, and your friends of friends. The bottle spins, as the players are watching it expectantly, anticipating the next candidate for truth or dare. It slows down, and the sounds of people’s breath hitching can be heard as the tip of the bottle goes near them.

(The stake here isn’t anything more than shame, really. Still, it’s a pretty huge predicament for college students.)

Finally, it stops, claiming Yoo Jimin as its victim. You watch her whine in slight disappointment, but there’s a glint, there’s a glint in her eyes that shows something more—excitement.

“Truth,” Jimin says.

You’ve always considered yourself lucky to be within Jimin’s radius, even if it’s just being a friend of a friend. There’s the obvious—her gorgeous, angelic features. You swear you can just look at her face all day without doing anything else, and that would’ve been enough for you.

Then, there’s her personality. It’s another thing you’ve always admired. She’s a leader, a goddamn 4.00 achiever, the perfect epitome of a student. She’s a debate team president, and now she’s sitting in the same circle as you, playing truth or dare, ready to be asked the most embarrassing questions.

“So,” Beomgyu begins, tapping his knees in a rhythm. He’s the faculty’s drummer, after all. “Alright, I couldn’t think of the question. My bad, guys”

The others watch Beomgyu with a slightly annoyed expression (they still love him, of course).

“Don’t start if you don’t know how to continue, man,” Jimin scoffs, turning to others for a spark to her question. “So, anyone?”

Nothing seems to run through your mind at the moment. You’re not an idea kind of person, to say. Your mind is blank.

“What is the worst–” Taehyun utters, but he seems lost on where to go next. The words hang in the air without closure “–fuck.”

“Is that fuck an exclamation, or it’s a part of the question, huh?” Jimin playfully teases him. “I mean, I can answer that if it’s the latter~”

God, she’s so charismatic.

Taehyun chuckles. “I’ll go with the second choice, then,” he says.

Jimin lets out a mischievous smirk. “Well, this is about two years ago, more or less,” she starts her story, as everyone in the circle gathers around to listen intently.

“I was fucking a guy, riding him like crazy. He was whimpering and moaning and all that stuff, you know? I thought he was perfect, being a submissive little slut like that,” Jimin says, an expression of wrath forming on her face. Fuck, she looks so hot when she’s mad. “I’m still mad at him, goddamn it.”

You only nod along with the story like the others, listening to her carefully.

“Everything was going so damn well. God, I even remember how he moaned like a bitch, ‘Nghhh~ Jimin, your pussy feels so good. Jimin, I’m your little man-whore, nghhh~’, like that,” Jimin mocks the poor man’s words while also mimicking the riding movement. You can see her breasts moving along with her motion.

This is fucking arousing. You’re starting to feel the tent inside your pants forming. Imagine being Jimin’s little man-whore like that, watching her tits jiggling while she’s on your cock. A few more shots and you could’ve been drooling all over the floor, being a laughingstock for all of your friends like that.

“That–That’s a very vivid imagery, Jimin,” Minjeong adds. The others are nodding along with her.

Jimin shrugs. “Guess I can be a bit–shameless, you know?” she says with a giggle, making the crowd smile along with her.

“Alright, back to the story. I was riding him, and he was moaning,” Jimin continues. “Everything was going fine. Then he fucking slapped my tits.”

You can see Minjeong clenching her lips, hard. She’s trying not to burst out in a huge laughter, so is Taehyun, so is Beomgyu, so are a lot of other guys in the circle.

Jimin shoots the crowd a glare, whining in frustration, “Come on, guys! He fucking slapped my tits!” Jimin then slaps her chest softly, and that breaks the group.

The crowd erupts in laughter, unable to comprehend the sheer absurdity of the situation. Kai is already on the floor, dying from the hilarity. You can’t help but chuckle along with the guys.

“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!” Jimin shouts, but the laughing crowd doesn’t seem to care, still laughing. You watch as Jimin leans back, watching the scene unfold around her, annoyed.

“Hmph!”

“Alright–Alright,” Yizhuo says, still laughing. She then reaches out to her friend for the bottle. Yizhuo wiggles it in her hand slightly, before she spins the bottle again, bringing the crowd’s attention to the object. The bottle rotates. Everyone, mostly still smiling, are watching it with anticipation, ready to see who will be the next victim of the game. Gracie Abrams’ That’s So True seems to repeat itself. The DJ probably forgot to turn the repeat function off. The guitar rings around the house. The bottle continues to spin, continuously slowing down second by second.

And it stops.

At you.

Fuck.

“Since Jimin picked truth–”

“Yeah, I know,” you quickly cut Yizhuo off. “Dare me something.”

You glance around the group. The men are thinking. The women are thinking. They’re probably trying to imagine the most embarrassing thing they can do to you.

“Hmm,” Beomgyu makes a thinking sound before seemingly having an idea. “Grind on somebody’s lap for thirty seconds.”

Your eyes widen in shock, trying to comprehend Beomgyu’s words. “Grind?”

“It’s the worst I could think of without taking off your clothes,” he nonchalantly says, shrugging.

“He could’ve done it for thirty-one seconds, you know,” Soobin chimes in, and the circle erupts in laughter, as you watch the events unfold shyly.

“Ha–alright, man,” Beomgyu says, still giggling. “Who’s going to be the lucky person here?”

The laughter subsides, and the circle focuses their attention on you. You look around the crowd, all red and flustered. Fuck, what is happening?

“I–uh–”

“I don’t mind,” Jimin blurts out with a loud burp, eliciting a few giggles. “I’m already taking a lot of flak tonight, so–come grind on my lap, pretty boy.”

Your eyes widen once more, not believing the words that just came out of Jimin’s pouty lips. Is she–Is she inviting you to grind on her lap? Your mind goes haywire. Your breathing quickens. Fuck, you can’t focus.

“C’mon, you’re already a bitch either way.”

You slowly get up from the floor, all anxious. You walk towards Jimin, who’s invitingly spreading her legs wide, gesturing you towards her.

As you reach Jimin, you lower your plump ass onto her lap. Jimin’s hands creep up your waist, gripping you in your place. Your body shudders at her touch.

“Alright, someone get the stopwatch,” Taehyun says. Yizhuo would be the one to do it, setting the timer at thirty seconds.

Your ass is hovering just above Jimin’s lap, leaving a small space because you just can’t bring yourself to. Suddenly, Jimin pulls you down onto her crotch, making you yelp.

“Nghhh!”

Jimin bursts out a laugh at your submissive response. Her hold on you is firm. She’s only allowing you to move sideways. Yeah, you’re definitely not leaving her before the timer runs out.

“Ready?” Yizhuo asks.

You take a deep breath on top of Jimin before replying, “Y–Yeah.”

“Alright, go!” Yizhuo then presses the start button.

Thirty seconds left.

You move on Jimin’s crotch awkwardly. Your hands find their grips on her strong shoulders. You feel the friction between your ass and her lap heating you two up in the space between. This feels so weird, yet so weirdly comforting. You somehow feel so safe on top of her like this.

“Mmm, just like that, bitch,” says Jimin, and you can only smile shyly in response.

Twenty seconds left.

Jimin starts to thrust her hips up your ass, making you bounce softly on her, her hands still gripping onto your waist tightly. You’re trying so hard to stifle your moan from coming out and embarrassing yourself.

You feel–reduced, reduced to her little man-whore, yet you find comfort in it. Your eyes start to flutter. Your vision is filled with stars.

“C’mon, moan for me. I fucking love it when men moan,” she encourages.

Ten seconds left.

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s Jimin’s charm from below you. Your moans leak out from your lips as your movement quickens. You’re feeling like a bitch right now.

“Nghh~”

“Fuck, yeah! You’re putting on some show, pretty boy!” Jimin cheers, and that only spurs you on. Her hands are tightening on your waist. Your motion becomes more and more frantic. You’re revelling in the way she’s talking you down into her bitch.

“Alright, time’s up, guys.”

Your hands find purchase in her hair, as you grind her crotch recklessly. Your whimpers are echoing through the room. Through your narrowed eyes, you see Jimin watching you like a predator, smiling wickedly, taking in the view of her nasty little slut grinding on her lap like this.

“Guys.”

Your pants are tightened from the sensations pooling below your ass. Your whimpers become loud moans. You grind on her crotch as quickly as possible, and it feels so great, being reduced to her little man-whore like this. You swear that you can just do this forev–

“Guys!”

You’re snapped out of your little trance. It takes a blink of an eye, and you see Jimin laughing under you. Around you, the guys just watch in shock (there’s nobody filming, luckily), some having their mouths hanging open, some having their eyes widened.

“Time’s up,” Yizhuo says, showing you the zeroes on her phone.

“Oh, s–sorry,” you reply, before regretfully leaving Jimin’s lap. She’s still laughing under you.

—

You chug in a cup of beer, and another, and another. You’re still trying to make sense of what just happened earlier. You just grind on top of Yoo Jimin’s lap recklessly, moaning and whimpering on top of her. 

God, you were such a bitch.

“Hey.” Suddenly, a sound comes from your back, sounds familiar. You turn back to face its owner.

It’s Aeri, right hand holding her beer cup.

“H–Hey,” you reply nervously. The image of your intimacy with Jimin is still playing in your head.

Aeri shoots a look of concern towards you. “Are you okay? You seem a bit–red,” she asks.

“I–I’m okay, just a little drunk,” you answer, trying to brush her off the fact that you were just dry humped Yoo Jimin minutes ago.

“By the way, the guys were just talking about you,” Aeri says with a giggle. Her thumb is pointing towards your friends’ group that are trying to impress the women. “You grind on Yoo Jimin’s lap?”

Fuck.

You can only stand still in your place, unable to move a limb.

Aeri laughs at your petrified reaction. “Oh my god, you’re such a slut!” She gives your shoulder a friendly slap.

“I–It was a dare, Aeri,” you say apprehensively. That’ll prove fruitless, of course. She’s already thinking you’re a slut. She’s still laughing at you for doing so.

You wouldn’t call Aeri your closest friend, even if the distance between you and her is smaller than that of you and Jimin. You two greet each other in class. You two greet each other outside of class, but that’s it, nothing more, nothing less.

Aeri is more of a carefree type than Jimin. Getting a B is already an achievement for her. She drinks twice a week, stays over at somebody else’s place once a week. Her friends would call her a slut, and she’d happily accept it.

“Are you going to grind on someone’s lap again tonight?” she asks, giggling. “Or maybe eating some ladyfingers~”

“My god, Aeri.” You slap her shoulder softly.

“Alright, see you around!” Aeri says. You wave at her, and she waves back, before she disappears into the crowd again.

Why are you even here?

—

You’re sitting alone on the bed in the house’s bedroom. There’s a Little Fish poster on the wall. The owner sure has some taste. A few vinyls are stacking on top of one another near its player.

You’re trying to comprehend what just happened earlier. You were grinding on a popular girl’s lap, then another one came in to mock you. Oh god, it’s over.

A knock on the door pulls you out of the destructive cycle you’re in, at least.

“Yes?” you utter, and the door opens.

It’s Jimin. She’s peeking through the space between the door and the wall, as if to make sure that no one else is in the room but you (well, there’s no one else here). She then quickly enters the room, closes the door, and starts walking towards you.

“Uh–okay?” you say, puzzled by how she’s acting.

“Heyy,” Jimin greets you again. She seems a bit more–drunk?

“Hi, Jimin.” You figure that you should apologize to her. You just embarrassed her and yourself like that, and her nonchalant reaction may have been a mere defense mechanism!

“Look, I’m sorry about that dare. I should’ve controlled myself better. I’m sorr–”

Your train of thoughts is derailed by her fingers invading your mouth, making your entire body shudder in surprise. Your eyes open wide at her action. Fuck, what is she doing?

“Strip, now,” Jimin orders, drunkenly, fingers playing with the insides of your wet cavern, before she pulls them out, leaving you empty.

“Wh–What?”

“I said ‘strip’, bitch boy. What the fuck is so hard about that?” Her eyes are barely open.

“B–But–”

She plunges her wet fingers into your mouth again, stifling your slutty moans and whimpers. Her hand reeks of alcohol and something that screams her.

“Slut,” Jimin drunkenly utters, before using her free hand to unbutton your shirt, slowly revealing your abdomen inch by inch. “Just–ugh–be a good boy and listen to me, alright?”

You are starting to get lost in the haze of desire, and you can say nothing but nod at her filthy words. Your hands go to your belt, hastily unlocking it from your slutty waist. Your pants come off a little too easily, now pooling on the ground. Your cock only has your boxers left to cover it.

“A slut with a big cock–” Jimin chuckles, using her free hand to stroke your cock from the outside, and you can only moan into her filthy hands “–fucking perfect.”

You’re still sucking on her fingers enthusiastically, like a common whore. Your hands can only sit still by the sides. You don’t dare to touch her body again yet after what happened out there.

“You can touch my tits, you know. You’re standing like a rock, and it’s fucking weird,” Jimin says, and that gives you the permission to her voluptuous breasts.

Your hands start softly, from merely wandering on her tits from top to bottom. You can feel the bra underneath her midriff shirt. It’s barely containing her chest. God, fuck, she’s huge.

“You fucking love my tits, don’t you?” Jimin asks, fingers still busy exploring your mouth. “Strip for me and I’ll let you suck on them.”

You then stammeringly pull your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its tight confinement. It springs free in excitement, and you just can’t wait to plunge it into Jimin’s puffy cunt.

Your shirt follows suit as Jimin finally unbuttons it completely. You quickly get rid of the restrictive garment, and now, you’re completely nude in front of Yoo Jimin.

“Great body,” she says with a giggle, finally taking her fingers off your slutty mouth. Jimin then takes your hands towards the hem of her top, pulling it upwards, revealing the black bra that’s barely able to contain her tits. They’re almost spilling from the confinement. Fuck.

“Yeah, I fucking know they’re big, slut. Just–wait a sec,” she sneers, as her hands reach towards the back of her bra, hastily unlocking it. And with that, the garment comes off. You’re greeted with the sight of her breasts hanging gorgeously in front of your face, with brown nipples topping them. Her nipples are already hard, so ready for you to–

“Mmm~ s–suck it, slut,” she groans, her body trembling before you, hinting the pleasure she gets from this. Her hands press you harsher into her tits, wanting you to take in the taste.

Jimin reeks of the earlier alcohol, with a hint of salt on her nipples. She has been sweating a bit. God, imagine if you get to taste her after a workout, her body slick, shining with sweat. The salty taste on her tits permeates your tongue. You get to taste her sweat like that. What an experience that would be?

You keep sucking on her tits like there’s no tomorrow. When you suck on one side, you’ll use a hand to knead on the other, feeling the divine softness in your hand. You’re hungry, and only Yoo Jimin’s breasts can satiate your burning hunger.

“Wh–What a bitch,” Jimin sneers, but that only drives you further into the seemingly unending lust of yours.

Suddenly, Jimin grabs onto your hair, yanking your head back to face her beautiful features. It hurts, but in Jimin’s hand, your cock only grows harder and harder.

“Alright, get on the fucking bed,” Jimin orders, and you quickly complies with it.

Jimin follows you onto the soft bed, climbing onto it while her eyes are roaming your pliant body. She’s almost drooling at the sight, seeing you all being submissive for her like this.

She quickly discards her shorts and her already-drenched panties, and you can only watch her show in awe. Her pussy looks nothing short of puffy, so mouthwatering.

She then climbs on top of your pliant body, ready to fuck you senseless on your cock. She lines herself up with your length, before slowly lowering herself down.

At the first contact, both of you groan with the intense pleasure coursing through your bodies. Her pussy feels utterly diving, so fucking tight. Your breaths come out in a stuttered rhythm. Your entire body trembles in pure bliss.

“F–Fuckkk~” you mewl. Your mind can barely register anything but the tightness of her pussy enveloping your thick cock.

“Y–You goddamn s–slut, why is your–ugh–cock so b–big?” she moans, her body shaking in the pleasure you’re giving her.

“I–It’s g–genetics,” you answer her coyly.

Jimin bursts out a laugh on top of your cock, clearly amused by your reply. “God, you’re such a bitch, aren’t you?”

You can only shyly giggle. She’s almost at the hilt now, but the pleasure is already too intense for you.

“G–God, you’re so damn tight, J–Jimin,” you utter, unable to make sense of her otherworldly grip on your cock. God, she’s so tight.

“Th–Thanks,” she replies, her voice still stern. Her hands are drawing lines on your chest with her neatly-manicured nails. The sensation is just too much—on your abdomen, on your cock, on your mind.

Finally, she’s at the hilt. She screams in pure ecstasy. You’re splitting her open with your cock. Both of your eyes are fluttering in bliss. This feels so good.

“Oh f–fuck, you’re so–so big!” Jimin shouts. You watch as her hands are shaking on top of you, unable to handle the sheer size of you.

You say nothing, instead creeping your hands up her pillowy breasts, adding another hue of sensation to her. You start to play with her nipples, making her body spasming on top of you.

“G–Goddd~” she mewls.

Jimin then moves back up. Your cock reappears from the base once more. The feeling around your cock is ecstatic—her inner walls grazing your cock like this. It’s insane.

“Nghhh~” you moan, trying to comprehend the feeling.

“I–I’m going down now, s–slut,” she says, before ramming back down. The sound of flesh slapping into each other echoes through the room.

“Fuck!” Both of you scream in unison, involuntarily.

She moves up again, then down, then up, then she finds her rhythm on your cock. Her pussy feels unreal. She’s gripping you like a vice, so tight, so right. Without knowing, you’re plowing into her pussy with reckless abandon.

You pound her roughly with any force you have, aiming to fill her womb with your salty nectar. The sounds of moaning and flesh slapping rings through the room. The room reeks of sex. Your hands creep up onto her big breasts again. They feel so soft in your hands, and you decide to give them a firm squeeze, making Jimin’s body writhe above you.

“G–God, y–your hands, s–so good,” she says, voice barely above a goddamn whisper. Her back arches. Her eyes are fluttering. She’s falling apart.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your trance. Your motion comes to a halt in surprise.

“Heyyy, I know you guys are in there~”

Fuck, it’s Aeri.

Jimin quickly covers your mouth with her drool-stained hand, not wanting you to alert Aeri of your presence. She’s still grinding your cock recklessly, and you’re doing your best not to moan like a slut (even if you already are).

“I–It’s–ah–just Jimin here, A–Aeri,” Jimin says, trying to hide the fact that she’s using you as her fucktoy. Though the evident stutter in her voice gives way.

“C’mon, Jimin, don’t hog him just for yourself. I wanna use him too! Pleaseeee~” Aeri pleads. You can feel the desperation coming from the outside.

“Ugh, this fucking woman,” Jimin scoffs, hips moving on top of you in a hypnotic motion. Her breasts are jiggling as she moves. “Just–don’t forget to lock the door!”

You hear a happy giggle from the outside. The door opens, and here comes Aeri, still in the same clothes as the time she called you a slut earlier in the night. Though she’s already in the process of hiking up her crop top up. Her bra is slightly visible.

“Wow, Jimin, he’s already inside you? Naughty, naughty girl!” says Aeri as she closes the door. A loud click is heard.

“Tsk, says the college’s slut,” Jimin scoffs, before she goes back to riding the soul out of your pliant body.

“God forbid a woman be a little slutty, I guess,” Aeri sneers before taking off her crop top.

Aeri’s cup size, though not as large as Jimin’s, is still pretty damn impressive if you’d weigh in on this topic in the men’s circle. Her bust is also barely contained by her lacy bra, can’t see why someone wouldn’t be caught within her presence.

Your eyes are glued to the barely contained breasts of Aeri’s, despite being buried deep in Jimin’s cunt. Aeri sways her hips playfully, pulling you into another trance. It doesn’t stay for long though. Jimin calls you back into action with a flick on your taut nipple.

“Hey! Don’t–mmm!”

Jimin plunges her fingers into your mouth for the umpteenth time, it still works, of course. You’re still sucking her slender fingers like a whore (you’re a whore, her whore). Your hands roam over her body to have a grab on her large bust hanging gorgeously above your face.

“Fucking wh–whore,” Jimin sneers, unimpressed by your antics, although drowning in the pleasure of being touched by you. She seems to really want you as hers, doesn’t she?

“Ngmm~” you can only whimper out.

“Oh, come on, Jimin. Don’t be so harsh on him!” Aeri protects you, as she slowly takes off her bra, waiting to use your body in some way. “Don’t want him to cum so fast. You know how much of a slut he is, right, baby?”

You nod sheepishly with Jimin’s fingers still inside your mouth. Degradation only makes you cum faster, and you wouldn’t want to piss Jimin and Aeri off by cumming before them.

As Aeri’s bra comes off, you’re greeted with her perfect breasts. Her dusky nipples are already hard, ready to be sucked and nibbled. You’re so ready for the second pair of tits for tonight.

“Oh, c’mon, Aeri. You’re distracting him!” Jimin whines, her hands are trying to divert your attention back to her bouncing on your cock. It works, sometimes. You can see Aeri giggling in the corner of your eyes.

“Alright, alright, how about–” Aeri takes off her shorts and panties in a single swoop, putting her mouthwatering cunt on display for you “–I sit on his face.”

God, she looks so delicious naked like this.

Back to her latest words first, though. Did she just say she’s going to sit on your face?

“Seems fair,” Jimin replies, gesturing Aeri to your vacant, unused face.

“Wait, I can’t–”

“You can, slut,” Jimin commands. Her voice is stern. Her pace on your length remains reckless, trying to coax the cum out of your full balls. “Don’t think you have any say in this, bitch. Tonight’s my–no–our night.”

You only whimper in response. You’re going to get double-teamed by Jimin and Aeri, and you couldn’t be happier than this.

Aeri then climbs onto the bed, approaching you like a predator eyeing its prey. She puts her legs on both of your sides, caging your head with her meaty thighs. Her pussy is just right above you. And slowly, she lowers herself onto your face, ready to suffocate you with her cunt.

“Oh god,” you utter, so lost in the throes of pleasure Aeri is about to give you.

She lowers just one of her knees close to your head. You’ve seen a video on this before. It’ll help the woman to not get tired too quickly. Her pussy is so close to your face now, and you can do nothing but stick your tongue out, ready to eat her out.

“Oh, and,” Aeri says, halting her motion slightly, making you groan in disappointment. “Do you want to kiss me, Jimin?”

“Ah, not my thing. Sorry,” Jimin replies with a polite smile, keeping her movements erratic on your cock. God, this feels so good.

“It’s fine,” Aeri says, before completely sinking herself onto your face, making you take in her taste.

“Fuckkk~” Aeri screams. Her body is shaking in the pleasure you’re giving her. Her hands grip onto the sides of your head tightly. She doesn’t want to let you go.

It’s not hyperbolic to say that Aeri’s taste is insane. You’re completely hypnotized by her flavor on your tongue. She has the perfect amount of saltiness, and the perfect amount of musk. Aeri’s pussy is driving you haywire, even if it’s in a different way that Jimin is making you feel.

“So–perfect for–a facefuck, god!” Aeri shouts, starting to ride your face like it’s hers (it’s hers).

The sensation is unreal. Jimin is trying to pump cum out of your cock with her grinding motion as if you’re her fucktoy (you’re her fucktoy), while Aeri is riding the shit out of your face as if you’re her fucktoy (you’re her fucktoy). The scent of her pussy is filling your nostrils, and you can’t help but grab onto both women’s breasts.

“Goddd~” Aeri groans, body shaking on top of you. Jimin says nothing but letting you play with her tits, though a few whimpers are leaking out of her lips.

Aeri’s juice tastes so damn good, and you’re happily lapping her up hungrily. Her juice is running down your chin to your neck, creating a filthy trail on your pretty face. You’re revelling in her taste. You’re revelling in the way you’re pleasing her. You’re revelling in the way she fucking keens on top of you.

“S–So, you’re not all just a pretty face, huh?” Aeri asks, her taut body trembling on you. She keeps riding your face frantically. God, she really is going for it.

You answer with an even more intense movement of your tongue, making Aeri scream on top of you. She grinds on your face even faster and faster.

Inevitably, you’re going to reach the precipice. You can feel the heat pooling in your crotch. You’re going to cum inside Yoo Jimin’s pussy!

“Nghh~ g–gonna cum,” you say. It’s barely coming out with Aeri’s cunt on your mouth like this. 

You hear Aeri giggle softly above you, body trembling in pleasure. “Well, this is rather fast, isn’t it?”

“You’re late, Aeri,” Jimin says, slightly dissatisfied with Aeri’s complaints. “Maybe you can come here instead of whoring out while he’s balls deep inside of me.”

Aeri giggles again. “Fineee~ just let me know when you guys are fucking.”

“G–Girls, gonna c–cum–nghn.”

Both Jimin and Aeri quicken their pace on top of you, chasing their own orgasm. They really want to cum with you, don’t they?

“A–Alright, I’m c–close–ah,” Jimin utters. You can hear her frantic breathing from below. Her grip on your waist becomes tighter. Your left hand alternates between her breasts, giving them the treatment they deserve.

“M–Me too,” Aeri says. Her muscles tense up under your touch. Her brown nipples are harder than ever. The three of you are going to cum at the same time!

“Nghh, I–I’m so c–close, girls. C–Can I cum inside you, J–Jimin?” you ask. The feeling is irresistible now. You’re so, so close.

“F–Fucking fill my–my womb, bitch,” Jimin scoffs, her voice stern. “Breed me like–like the whore you are.”

Her words spur you on, as you thrust up into Jimin’s cunt as fast as humanly possible. Your mouth ravages Aeri’s folds recklessly.

Jimin would be the first to break. Her cunt gushes out clear liquid onto the bed. Her body spasms on top of you. You can feel her wetness pooling on your stomach. Aeri follows suit. Her squirt leaks out of her pussy onto your face as you happily drink it. Both of them scream, forming a cacophony that fills the room. 

“Yes! Yes! Fucking–Fucking love this cock.” Jimin shouts. You aren’t so sure who’s going to hear that, but you don’t care. You’re about to cum inside of her.

“G–God, I’m painting your face so good!” Aeri says.

You let go. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum into Jimin’s womb. You’re breeding Yoo Jimin with your cock. Your entire body writhes under both women’s bodies. 

“I can feel it twitch inside me!” Jimin says excitedly, softly raking your body with her nails.

Your eyes flutter in ecstasy, unable to make sense of the sensations on your body. There’s the feeling of Jimin’s ass on your cock. There’s the feeling of Aeri’s thighs on your face. There’s the scent of sex and sweat filling the room. That’s So True can still be heard. It just won’t stop, will it?

Finally, you come down from your precipice. You’re panting along with the women, trying to catch your breath in this post-orgasm bliss. Fuck, that felt good.

“Slut,” Jimin sneers, getting off from your cock at the same time as Aeri unlatches herself from your face. “Bathroom, now.”

You quickly comply with her order, getting off from the bed and walking towards the bathroom. You feel so submissive, so pliant, yet it feels so right, being their little bitch boy like this.

“One more round?” Aeri jokes, giving your ass a slap, making you yelp.

“Oh, definitely,” Jimin says, determined in her voice.

“M–Maybe, I gotta take a break.”

—