#i hope he shoves him against a wall just like that

[charmedimsure]

Wake Up Call

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: Thanos is you're least favorite regular at the club you bartend for. But when you find him passed out against the building one night, you can't just leave him there. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i'm really proud of this fic. expect a second part sometime soonish (gonna work on requests first tho). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

The music in Club Pentagon is so loud it feels like it's inside of you. You're placing the olives in a dry martini a patron is waiting for, handing it to them with a smile. You're one of the most popular bartenders at Club Pentagon. Men order from you because they're drunk and want to fuck you, and women order from you because they're more comfortable drinking cocktails that have been made by another woman.

"Señorita, over here!" A voice yells out to you and you sigh at the familiar voice.

You turn and put a hand on your hip, spotting the telltale purple hair of your least favorite regular. "What do you want?"

He puts a hand over his heart. "Ouch, you hurt me, baby. I just wanted to see my favorite girl."

You roll your eyes, grabbing a nearby towel and quickly wiping drops of different liquors off the bar. "Well, you saw me, so you can leave now."

He takes a glance at his little posse around him, consisting of guys hoping to get famous, girls wanting to say they slept with a rapper, and your least favorite coworker Nam-gyu. You have no idea how the runner still has a job here, considering he spends more time licking the failed rapper's boots than actually running anything.

"You know, I have an extra space at my table," he says. "I'd love if you came over after your shift. Thanos will treat you well."

You groan. The boy has been relentless in asking you out ever since you started working at the club. "I would rather sit with the movie villain than you." You look over his shoulder at your coworker. "Nam-gyu, take him away or I'm gonna volunteer you to clean the floors."

With a hiss, Nam-gyu puts his hands on Thanos' shoulders and steers him away from you. Thanos smiles over his shoulder, waving at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Señorita!"

You cringe, knowing that you most definitely will see him again tomorrow.

<>

The next night goes by much too slow for your liking. You spend your shift mixing the same drinks over and over, putting up with the men who flirt with you, and calling security on some men who won't leave girls alone. You had of course seen Thanos, but the club was so busy that you didn't even have the time to reject him, instead just huffing at him and turning to another person waiting at the bar.

Once your shift is over and you've finished everything you need to do, you step out through the back door, taking a deep breath of air that doesn't smell like smoke or alcohol.

As you walk toward the street to hail a cab, you spot a flash of purple against the wall. Getting a bit closer, you recognize the passed out body of Thanos.

While a small part of your mind is telling you to just leave him there, you know you can't do that. You crouch down next to him, putting your fingers on his pulse point and letting out a sigh of relief when you feel his heartbeat. You look down at him, furrowing your brows when you notice that the cross that always hangs around his neck is slightly open.

Carefully picking it up, you take a peek inside and see an assortment of multi-colored pills. Shit, he's lucky he's just passed out. Had you known he'd been on... whatever this shit is... you would've banned all bartenders from serving him drinks. He may be the bane of your existence, but you're not going to let him die.

You close the cross and remove it from around his neck, shoving it in your pocket. You lightly slap his cheek a few times until he blinks his eyes open, looking around him. He looks at you, eyes adjusting to the light.

"Hey, Señorita," he slurs. "Where is everybody? Where's Nam-su? He was supposed to take me home."

You let out a small chuckle at the name he called your coworker. "They aren't here."

He frowns, trying to stand up. "I need another drink."

You grab onto his shoulders, supporting his weight as he nearly topples to the ground. "I think you've had enough, Thanos. It's time to get you home."

He makes a sound of protest, but doesn't have the strength to stop you from dragging him to the curb as you wave down a taxi. The car pulls up and you help Thanos into the back seat before sliding in next to him.

"Where to, Miss?"

The plan was to take Thanos to his place, but you don't know where he lives and the odds of him telling you or the cab driver right now are slim. He also can't be left alone in the state he's in. One more pill could send him over the edge.

With a sigh, you tell the driver the address of your apartment building, holding Thanos upright as he pulls away from the club.

<>

Thanos wakes up, his head pounding worse than ever. He reaches for his cross to pop a pill to get rid of the headache, but instead of finding the necklace, his hands just grab his shirt.

He opens his eyes, hissing when the light makes a pang of pain go through his head. Looking down, Thanos' cross is nowhere to be found. That's when he realizes that he's not in his bed, or any bed, for that matter. He's laying on the couch in an unknown place, a small garbage can on the floor next to him. On the coffee table in front of him is a glass of water. He reaches for it, downing the whole glass in one go. Spotting a small note next to the glass, he picks it up and reads it.

'If you barf I'll make you clean it up. Use the garbage.'

He hears a noise coming from the other room and stands up, wanting to figure out what is happening and where he is. When he steps into the kitchen, he nearly gasps when he sees you with your messy hair and oversized t-shirt on.

You turn to look at him. "Oh good, you're not dead. I really didn't want to deal with that." You walk over to the fridge. "Blue or red?"

He gives you a confused look. "What?"

"Gatorade," you clarify. "Blue or red?"

"Oh, uhh, blue."

You grab the blue bottle and place it on the table. "Drink that. The electrolytes are good for hangovers."

Thanos walks slowly to the table, picking up the bottle and taking a sip. "Do you have a bathroom?"

"No, I just pee out the window," you deadpan without thinking. You see him look down, a look of embarrassment and shame taking over his face. You sigh. "Down the hall to the left."

The boy nods and disappears down the hallway. He walks into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He feels in his pockets, taking out his phone and huffing when he sees the battery is dead. Looking inside your medicine cabinet, he frowns when he can't find what he's looking for. How can you have no painkillers? Instead he takes the mouthwash, taking two big gulps. Mouthwash has alcohol, and he needs it. When he doesn't feel the familiar sting, he looks down at the label.

'Alcohol free'.

Just his fucking luck.

He puts the bottle back in the cabinet and closes it, coming face-to-face with himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes have never been darker, at least not that he can remember. His skin looks pale, and his hair is disgusting. He turns the knob for the sink, splashing his face with cold water.

When he walks back into the kitchen, you're no longer there. He moves to the table, seeing a plate with scrambled eggs and toast sitting next to his drink. Thanos hesitates, not really knowing what to do.

"That's for you, you know."

He jumps a bit when he hears your voice behind him. You come out of your room dressed in your casual clothes.

You smile slightly at his expression. "Do you not like eggs?"

He shakes his head. "No, eggs are good."

Your smile grows. "Good because that's all I know how to make. Do you want any hot sauce with it or something?" You put the rest of the eggs from the pan onto your own plate and leave the pan to cool off.

"Do you have pepper?" Thanos asks.

You nod, walking to the table and putting your plate down on the opposite side of his. "It's on the table."

Thanos cautiously sits down in his seat, reaching for the pepper and putting it on his eggs. He takes a bite, pleased to find that they are cooked just right. He watches you as you eat your breakfast in silence, scrolling through your phone mindlessly. A shot of pain going through his head and he winces. "Do you have any painkillers?"

You shake your head, not taking your eyes away from the screen. "I do, but I think you've mixed enough substances with whatever's in that cross you carry."

Thanos feels his entire body tense at the mention of his cross. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing ends up coming out.

You lock your phone and put it face-down on the table. "Don't worry, I didn't throw it out. It's in a safe place, along with the painkillers and anything else that could potentially be abused."

The boy lets out a breath and nods, continuing to eat slowly. He looks you over silently. Your face is bare of makeup and your hair is still messy. Thanos has liked you since the moment he first saw you at the club, but you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"I found you passed out outside the club last night when I was leaving," you explain. "You said Nam-gyu was supposed to bring you home but I couldn't find him, so I took you back here."

Thanos huffs. "Fucking idiot," he says under his breath.

You snort out a laugh, and Thanos thinks it might just be the most beautiful noise he's ever heard. He wants to know what he can do to hear that noise again.

You both finish your food in a comfortable silence, you looking at your phone and Thanos looking at you. At one point you catch him looking at you and raise an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath. "Why are you helping me? Why are you being nice to me? I've been nothing but an asshole to you."

You sigh. "Honestly, I've been asking myself the same question. I think I just saw you there, alone and in need, and I thought that I would've wanted someone to help me had they found me like that. You have been an ass, but I think that's more the pills than you."

Thanos nods slowly, taking in your words. "Well, thank you."

You nod. "Just please don't make me regret showing you where my apartment is. I don't wanna move."

The boy chuckles, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch up at the sound. "I won't. I promise."

"Good." You stand, taking your plate and his and bringing them to the sink. "I have off today. You're welcome to stay here for a bit until you're feeling better. I'll call a cab for you when you're ready."

Thanos goes back to the couch he woke up on, sitting down. He finds a charger for his phone and plugs it in. You come into the room, putting a new bottle of gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. He thanks you and cracks the seal.

The two of you end up talking for hours. He tells you about how he got into music, and you tell him that you always wanted to try learning to play the guitar, though you've never had enough money to buy one or the other equipment. Thanos feels his heart grow fuller with every laugh he is able to get out of you. He gets more satisfaction from these few hours spent with you than he has every night drinking his life away at Club Pentagon.

At one point, you look at him, a lazy smile on your face. "What's your name?"

He gives you a look of confusion.

"Your real name. I doubt your real name is Thanos."

He lets out a nervous laugh. He hasn't gone by his real name in at least a year. "It's Su-bong," he says shyly. "Choi Su-bong."

"Su-bong," you repeat, as if trying out how it feels. You smile at him. "I like Su-bong. You should be him more often."

Later, as you stand outside your building calling for a taxi, you turn to look at the boy next to you. "You know, you could be so much more than this."

He looks at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You have talent and heart, more than you've ever shown while out of your mind drunk and stoned," you say. "So many people's lives are ruined because they keep chasing that high. Don't be one of those people. Please. You're meant for better."

A cab pulls to the curb in front of you. As Su-bong opens the door, you put an arm on his shoulder, stopping him. Digging into your pocket, you pull out his cross and hand it to him. "The choice is yours. And if you decide you want to give your life another chance, I'll be here to support you." You hand him a slip of paper with your phone number. "This is for support. If you text me the way that you talk to me at the club, I'm going to block you. Do not make me regret this."

He smiles as he takes the cross and the paper from you. Once he sits in the car, he rolls the window down. "Thank you again, for everything."

You give him a small smile and wave before walking back into your apartment building.

Once inside his own apartment, Thanos walks to his bathroom. He takes the cross out of his pocket, opening it to find his pills. He picks one up, examining it. With a sigh, he drops the pill into the toilet, turning the cross over so the others follow. He watches as the bright pills swirl around bowl before disappearing down the drain. He doesn't want to be this person anymore. He wants to be someone that you can be proud of. Someone that he can be proud of.

[madamechrissy]

Hear me out.

dom!Gojo X subfem!reader edging then overstimulation with Reader tied up, gagged and blindfolded. Make Gojo as ruthless as you want :D

Here's a little drabble! I didn't gag her bc I don't dig it much, but blinfolded/tied up and edged hehe <3 enjoy! (oh and he's yandere)

Your wrists are bound with Satoru's silky tie, and you're wearing his blindfold, as his own bright blue eyes watch you, avidly, you're wriggling, helpless, sniffling and hiccuping while he curls his fingers in your slick cunt. "Aww, something wrong, baby?" He cooes, you can't speak or function, gasping now as he laps at your clit, tongue slipping in little circles.

"Please..." Is all you manage, after he keeps getting you just close enough, but then he pulls out right when he feels those walls tighten, when he can tell you're about to cum, you try to hide it, but he yanks them out again, laughing at you.

"Do you think you deserve to cum? After flirting with that guy today?"

"I d-didn't, Satoru..." You ache to see him, to look at his eyes, he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, starting those torturous circles on your clit again, you try to close your legs, earning Satoru yanking them apart.

"Do I need to tie these too, huh? Why do you have to be so fucking pretty, everyone looks at what's mine, should keep you tied to this bed." His words along with his fingers send you to the brink, your clit is twitching, pussy lips puffy from all the torture, he laughs then, smacking your cunt.

"Ah... f-fuck...' He's scissoring his long fingers in your slick walls again, hitting your spot and making the pressure coil in your tummy again.

"You like that idea, so slutty f'me, aren't you? Just me?"

"J-just you, Toru... ngh!" He moans as he watches his name spill from your bitten, swollen lips, smacking your pussy again, before turning his attention to your pretty tits, sucking on your nipples, leaving smacks over and over on your overheated cunt. "Just you! Swear, Toru.... ah!"

Satoru bites your nipple then, teeth sinking in, hurting so bad you scream out in pain, his fingers back against your clit again. "You say that, but baby I think I really need you to stay home, you're too pretty for the world to see, yeah? You like that idea?"

You nod, helpless for him, thighs shaking as he kisses down your tummy again, nestling his broad shoulders between your thighs, lapping up all the sweet arousal that's drooling from your hole, you are a mess, tears soaking his black blindfold now. Satoru's strong hands press into the plush of your thigh as he laps up more with the flat of his tongue, pushing you back to the edge, your entire body is wriggling, hips arching for him.

"I'll destroy the whole fucking world for you, y'know that? I'll take out anyone who even thinks of touching you." Satoru could easily do it too, you feel so much of his power then, his grip bruising, while your numb hands ache to enwrap in his silky white locks.

"I'm yours, Toru." You assure him, he needs it, he always does, he loses his sanity when it comes to you. Satoru moans, shoving your legs up then, bending you in half, cock sliding in finally, you are sobbing it feels so good, finally being filled by him, his length shoving in so deep, tip kissing your cervix. "Ah! S'much... you're s-so big..."

"Look at you, such a pretty little mess." He yanks up his blindfold then, grinning as he sees your tear glistened eyes. "You gonna be a good girl f'me?"

You nod eagerly, sniffling, finally getting to see his perfect face, his blue eyes swirling, pupils shrunk to pin points, he cups your face as he sinks inside, pressing your thighs against your breasts and putting his weight to keep you folded. He pulls out almost to the tip, making you whimper. "P-please..."

"Hah, ya thought you could cum?" He smirks now, shoving his cock back in with a snap of his hips, moving just slow enough you can't cum, you're pinned under him, helpless, gasping for breaths. "Not yet, not even close to done with you.

Hope you enjoyed bb! <3

[cvnt4him]

okay, how do we feel on squirting on izuku? hear me out now—

UA dorms, 3rd year, everyone is 18+!!!!!

you and izuku are having a midnight fuck sesh cause it’s quite literally the ONLY time y’all get to be sexually intimate so things are REALLY hot & heavy. I’m talkin’ like having to hold in moans to not wake your neighbors up, the bed is creaking, you had to put a pillow in between the headboard because it was making too much noise, sweating everywhere and izuku has to keep making out with you so y’all can get your moans out quietly!! 🫣

and all of a sudden after izuku moves his hips slightly, you just start squirting EVERYWHERE, like your soaking his bed and you have to moan into a pillow cause it felt so good 😵‍💫

“Did…Did i make you…?”

“..yes…yes you..did..haa..”

“Can i..keep going?I-I haven’t came yet..”

“Yes baby, please keep fucking me…!”

and then just proceeds to overstimulate you while your whining and moaning into his mouth and scratching on his back.

do what you will with this information 🥸

-🩸

I kinda free balled even though you literally told me what you wanted lol, I hope this is to your liking my loveᡣ𐭩

It was after midnight, you were at least sure all of your dorm neighbors were lying down if not asleep by the time you went over to izukus dorm.

You and your boyfriend haven't been able to explore each other's body in so long given you're in your last year of highschool which means not only will things become more advanced but you have even less time to get all of the things done. With all the stress of colleges and your futures taking over your brains you two only had time to text each other 'good morning' 'goodnight' and 'I love you'

It hurt you but none of that mattered anymore, you were finally in your boyfriend's arms after so long. This was the only time you two had together let alone to be intimate with one another you had to take advantage of it.

Izuku had your face shoved into the pillows and your back arched painfully you can hear him groaning above you, his eyes squeezed shut as he slammed his cock inside of you repeatedly.

His thick cock forcing its way into your gushing pussy. The way you squeezed around him had his head rolling back he couldn't take it. He'd already cum inside of you about 2 times given how long it's been since he'd felt your tight wet walls, the thought of them alone had him busting a nut.

You heard his gutteral moans being hushed by his face being buried in your shoulders he began biting them harshly causing you to scream into the pillows, luckily for you they were quite scream proof izuku made sure of that when he bought them.

“ ....ohh...~ you sweet thing... ngh- need it s’bad huh? hmmn. c'mon cum in my cock baby..”

The way he whispered in your ear, so dirty yet so sweet. He was never rough with you but he couldn't help himself fucking you as if you're some cheap fleshlight he needed all that he could take. His hands coming down to harshly grip the flesh of your ass before slapping it making your back arch and your ass grind back onto his cock.

He loved the feeling of you fucking him back, throwing your ass back onto his cock while he tried shoving it deeper inside. The bed creaking with each rough motion of you thrusting back against him, izuku groans at the sticky sounds of the two of you thinking he should've put a pillow behind his headboard someone was definitely going to complain!

“ ngh..! give it t’me, give it t’me zuku— need it s’bad- ugh...”

Your words were coming out muffled and sloppy you were losing your mind with how sensitive you were, you'd come so many times its as if it was happening all on its own. You couldn't control it anymore letting him split you in half on his cock while you lost your mind.

“ let me.....huff....let me flip you over baby.. wanna look at’cha when I fuck you.”

You hum and with that he pulled out causing you to whine, he instantly flipped you over into your back to get a good look at your soiled face. Tears streaming down and spit down your jaw, your eyes were glossy and you could hardly see all you wanted was to hold your strong boyfriend.

You heard him shakily sigh above you, lining his sticky and cum covered cock back up with your dripping cunt, cum leaking out of it and creating a ring around his cock as he quickly shoved it in causing you to jolt upward into him, he instantly leaned down and held you locking lips with you to sustain your whine and moans you were shaking in his arms and your spit was slowly leaking down both your chins.

Izuku sat inside of you for a moment letting you convulse around his cock, this was more for him than it was for you. The feeling of your nasty icky cunt spasming around his twitching veiny cock had his mind melting just as much as yours. He was trying his hardest not to fall apart inside of you but God was it hard with you squeezing him tighter than anything he's ever had.

Izuku gulped down hardly and slowly jerked his hips up into you there was something inside of you, a coil that just snapped your head was thrown back and you couldn't help but to moan aloud izuku was too late to catch it pitchy moans echoing through his room you had started squirting all over his cock your eyes were rolling and your mind was completely blank.

Izuku was in utter awe with you, gasping lightly as his cock only began plugging you deeper with how thick it was, your juices were spraying all over his abdomen and his bed you would be embarrassed if you were coherent and understood what was going on around you. Izuku rubbed your thigh and cooed sweet words to you telling you how proud of you he was.

“ awh honey.... m’ so proud of you baby, did so good f’me.”

“ do...do you want me to keep going...? can I? I wanna cum again...”

You nod your head at his words hardly even understanding any of them. With that he took all that he had and began thrusting into you once more, not as rough as he once was but just enough to get him there and to have you squealing into his chest tears wetting him as your body rocks with his arms wrapping around his back and scratching his back harshly.

His back arched into you a wince leaving him as he sped up, hips stuttering into yours. The nasty slaps of skin filling the air along with your hiccups and moans and his low groans. The bed creaking faster with his movements.

“ sh...shit baby..! m’gna cum inside of you... fuck-!”

Giving it all he could with a couple sloppy messy thrusts, he came inside of you hard and deep. His moans turned into high pitched whines his cock was twitching so much and you were squeezing him so tightly after he'd already cum he couldn't help squeezing your hips tightly making you wince and squirm.

You felt his shaky breath fan over your neck as your face was buried in his chest drool getting all over him as he just collapsed on top of you not even bothering to pull out. His poor cock was too thick for you to push out so you just sat there plugged and fucked full of cum.

The next day you were both told by your teacher that izuku had many complaints from his neighbors due to loud squeaking that sounded as if someone was being murdered. You both had detention for the rest of the year and were BANNED from going near each other's dorm and would be kicked out of U.A if caught in the other's room.

Was it truly worth it....

[atzhrts]

ik everyone is on a riize kick but do u have any thoughts on any ateez members 👉🏼👈🏼

i always have thoughts for my ults <3

i miss them so bad the concert needs to come quicker 😭 & i hope wooyoung feels better asap :(

includes in order of the member (age order): recording | tying hwa up | hand kink, choking | strength kink | body worship | pillow princess mingi | mirror sex | degradation (whore)

hongjoong who loves fucking you in his studio. just telling you to get on his lap whenever he needs a break, but you’d need to be quick before he gets back to work. he definitely has a song with your voice or moans in it, whispering a dirty little message for his new favorite song that no one will ever hear but him.

seonghwa who loves getting tied up by you because he know you think he looks so so pretty. but at the end of the day he’d still be the one in charge, hands tied above his head as his hips snap into yours. the harshness of his thrust sending you flying forward, placing your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself and burying your face in his neck.

yunho who knows you have the biggest thing for his hands, always subtly placing them on your body. on your thighs when he’s driving, on your waist whenever he’s opening a door for you or around your neck when he is rearranging your guts. definitely the type to run his finger over your cheek and down your chest to tease you.

yeosang who is obsessed with feeling how much stronger he is than you, dragging you up the stair before picking your up and shoving you against the wall. one hand supporting your thigh wrapped around his waist and the other one caressing your cheeks. hard bulge pressed against your center, making you feel the heat through a level of clothes as he gently starts rocking his body against yours.

san who loves having you worship his body, sitting on the bed in front of you, hands on your waist as you massage his shoulders. nails gently scratching over his skin before you move them over his pecs down his abs, one finger running down over his bulge before you place each of your legs on either side of his, sitting down on his lap. lips attaching themselves to the side of his neck, pressing kisses all the way up to his ear telling him how good he looks and your fingers squeezing his bicep whining about how big it is all while you can feel his bulge twitching against your center.

mingi who loves being a pillow princess, your lips just feel so so good around his dick and it has his mind spinning for the rest of the night. laying on his back, fucked out eyes staring into yours and you can just tell his mind is filled with you and you only. watching your tits bounce in his face as you use him to make yourself feel good, he’d try to thrust up into you every now and then but looses his strength after 2-3 thrust, your tight heat just feels way too good.

wooyoung who loves fucking you in front of a mirror, watching your reactions when he hits a particular good spot. one of his hand coming down to play with your clit, chuckling when your head falls back against his shoulder before telling you to watch yourself getting fucked. groaning over how you clench around him whenever the two of you make eye contact through the mirror and he sees your fucked out state. also likes watching himself in the mirror

jongho who has mastered the combination of ordering your around and treating you like his princess. telling you to get on your knees before gently caressing your cheeks, asking if your knees are comfortable. or pushing your legs over his shoulders and then making sure you’re not being stretched too much. calling you a whore and telling you you’re his perfect little girl in the same sentence.

[jasvtsc]

soft & tender

it was a regular day, just like any other day.

you were lying between ben’s legs, his thick thighs enveloping your smaller body in the form of a safety cocoon. your back was pressed against his bare chest, as sunlight barely started to shine through the slightly rolled down blinds. his hands roamed your body with a gentle and tender touch, which was still a rare thing from him.

his fingers stroked up your abdomen to your collarbones under your shirt and then back down, but never going right where you wanted them — and he knew that.

he was teasing you, taunting you with his touch, which tended to set your skin on fire. you had goosebumps all over your skin, shifting impatiently as soft gasps and breaths escaped your throat.

ben just kept smirking cockily, watching in silence as you struggled to keep yourself together. you were such a squirmy little thing.

he could feel you shivering in his arms, your body aching to get what it was so desperate for. but if he just gave in… where’s fun in that?

slowly, he traced his calloused fingertips down your stomach and hip bones, making contact with the soft lace material of your white panties. your eyes widened and your breath hitched as you observed his hand, hope arising in your mind. you wanted him to touch you so fucking badly.

but he didn’t.

he just slightly slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, making small circles on your skin. and then, he backed away, which extracted a needy whine from your lips. ben chuckled cruelly, watching you struggle.

his hand went up, his fingers hovering over your hardened nipples. he stayed still for a second, but finally, pressed his thumb on the bud and started circling it. this time, you let out a small whimper, your nails desperately digging into his thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you grabbed his other hand and started guiding it back into your panties.

“oh, look at that. is my little bunny needy?” he cooed mockingly, but let you guide his hand.

you pulled your panties down and put his hand on your core. a pathetic sigh of relief left your mouth the moment you felt the familiar callousness press against your already wet folds. ben hummed in contentment, beginning to slowly rub them, getting his fingers covered in your sticky mess.

“bunny, you’re being a bad girl right now. you’re basically drenched and all of that because i just touched you? you’re a filthy little girl, i’ll tell ya that,” he whispered right into your ear, his voice gravelly. he took your earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on the sensitive skin while simultaneously spreading your folds apart and prodding your entrance with his fingertips.

you whimpered yet again, arching your back and pushing your hips into his hand, desperately needing his fingers inside of you.

but he clearly wanted to tease you. he pinched your nipple, twisting it between his fingers while his thumb pressed on your clit. a loud squeal mixed with a moan echoed through the bedroom.

but ben quickly shut you up. 

he pulled his hand away from your aching pussy and shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. immediately, you wrapped your lips against your digits, taking in your own juices mixed with the saltiness of his skin. he used the bottom of his palm to tilt your head back, looking into your pleading doe eyes as you sucked on his fingers.

“you know what i said about being quiet, remember?” he warned you, his brows furrowed in a stern expression. you gave him a quick nod, breathing in through your nose.

ben hummed at your submission and moved his hand from your breast back to your pussy.

and soon, you felt his fingers stretch you open, roughly rubbing your gummy walls, soothing the needy ache as he kept his other fingers in your mouth to make sure that all of the little sounds you were making were muffled.

a smirk played on his lips, as he watched you falling into the blissful state because of his soft, yet degrading actions.

you were such a dirty little bunny.

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 13

Din Djarin x f!reader | 4k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: it's finally the night of the Gala, and it's finally time to perform with Din.

a/n: First, if you didn't see the AMAZING art @kenobiwanx made of ballet!Din, please go look now!!!

Second, a week or so ago @iknowisoundcrazy asked me about a scene I was proud of writing, or something like that, and my answer was really this chapter. I just couldn't say that yet. I hope y'all enjoy it. I can't believe we only have one more chapter! I'm super behind on replying to your amazing comments because I just moved over the weekend, but I will catch up, I promise. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, dancing, flirting, touching, pet names (sweetheart), hand-holding, intense feelings, kissing, I think we've already covered all of the dance moves in this chapter but I added some links used previously just in case

Chapter 13

At call time, you were feeling much more relaxed and ready for the performance. You successfully avoided the tornado that was Greef Karga backstage (where Alexa and Vince were corralling him) and found one of your usual spots in the dressing room near Adrian. He was already dressed for Jee’s piece in a full-coverage bodysuit with a skin color background and abstract shapes printed on it in blue. You knew his fellow dancers were in similar outfits with different colors, and that the shapes were somehow incorporated into the choreography. Jee was good at things like that.

You quickly put on your bodysuit and your sweats over top. It was a little chilly backstage and you had plenty of time before the show would start. 

Adrian leaned against the counter to your right and crossed his arms. “Where’s your other half?”

You pointed upwards – there were a couple of dressing rooms that were more private, and you were pretty sure that’s where Din had been getting ready. “He’ll be down in a bit. You ready?”

He nodded, smiling. “This is a fun one. Jee’s choreography is always weird, but cool.”

You laughed as you finished your stage makeup. “True,” you agreed.

Fifteen minutes later, Din popped his head into the room. He had on a loose t-shirt and sweats, but you figured he had his shorts on underneath. You noticed a few people waved at him and he nodded in response. He caught your eye in the mirror and motioned for you to join him in the hall. 

You looked at Adrian. ��See you in a bit.”

He smiled and shoved your shoulder lightly. “Get out of here.”

You laughed and joined Din in the doorway. He smiled and led you to the right and around the corner, and you realized where you were going. There was a tiny dressing room with no mirror that no one ever used, except for taking naps – it had a somewhat comfortable loveseat.

As you entered, you realized no one was in there but Din’s bag was on the couch. “Is this where you’ve been getting ready?” The room was so small that the two of you basically filled it.

He nodded, a bit sheepish. “I just drop by the other room to use the mirror.”

You smiled. “If I’d known I’d have come and claimed the couch,” you teased.

He ducked his head and smiled. “You’re always welcome.”

You moved over to the couch and sat down. “So, what’s up?”

Din leaned against the folding table that ran the length of the wall by the door. “Could you help me with the body paint? I think some of it wore off in the back.”

“Sure,” you said, moving to get up, but he waved you back down.

“Not yet. We’ve got a few minutes and it’s too cold to be basically naked in here already.” 

You laughed. “True. But we want it to dry, right?”

He sighed. “Alright. Ok, come here.” His hands moved to the hem of his shirt and he tugged it gingerly over his head. You realized he was avoiding the paint. It was dry, though, and looked fine.

“Where’s the problem? The front looks fine.” Your eyes traveled over the swirls on his torso and you smiled, lightly. When you met his eyes he was smirking again.

“Should I take off my pants, too?” His eyes were almost sparkling as he teased you.

You gasped, just for show. “Din! What are you insinuating, hmm?” You stepped up next to him and took a closer look at the paint, looking for any spots that had rubbed off.

As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips and pulled you forward between his open knees on the table. You flailed a bit as you looked for somewhere to rest your hands, eventually settling on his forearms. You didn’t want to mess up the paint, which was mostly on his torso and biceps. 

Once you were steady, he leaned forward, far enough that his lips were almost touching your ear. “I saw you check me out, you know. Last week.” His voice was deep, and you shivered again. He pulled back and grinned.

“Din Djarin, you tease.” 

He squeezed your hips and shook his head. “It’s not a tease, sweetheart. I checked you out, too.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “Not for the first time.”

You smiled. “Adrian said we were both watching each other in class, all the time.”

Din laughed. “I don’t know how you didn’t see me. It felt like I never looked at anything else.”

You felt your face heat. “Ok. Enough of that. We have a performance,” you poked him in the side and laughed when he tried to dodge, “get your head in the game.” He smiled and squeezed your hips again. “Now let me see your back.”

You moved back as he stood so he could turn in front of you. For a moment you simply looked – your eyes danced over his broad shoulders and then down his spine. You wanted to reach out and touch, to trace the lines of his muscles and curve of his waist with your fingertips. He was so strong. 

You shook your head. The paint. You frowned as you looked for any breaks in the paint. “Din, it looks fine. I don’t see any spots where you need a touch up.”

When he turned back to face you, his expression was suspiciously blank. “Oh? Well, maybe I was wrong, then.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Din Djarin, did you have ulterior motives when you brought me in here?”

He smirked again and shook his head. “No, you know we’re saving those for later. I just…” he sighed. “I’d rather wait with you than alone.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but smiled. “You could have just said that.”

He shrugged. “There could have been some spots to touch up. You never know.”

You laughed and tugged him over to the couch. He sat sideways so as not to actually rub off any of his paint, and you sank into the corner. “How much time do you think we have?”

“Probably about ten minutes.” The first movement was after Vince’s piece, which opened the show. You needed to be backstage when it started. Then the second movement was between Talia’s and Jee’s, and the third finished the show. 

You reached for his hand and laced your fingers together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to get comfortable touching your pas de deux partner before a performance, but you knew this felt different, for both of you. “Want to go warm up?” He nodded. “Alright. Meet me backstage? I have to go do my pre-show thing with Adrian.”

Din raised an eyebrow, and you realized he’d never seen your “thing”, as you called it. “Or you can come and watch, if you want. We just have a silly handshake and then we hug.”

It turned out that he did want to watch, and he followed you back to your dressing room after stripping off his sweatpants. You allowed yourself to ogle his legs briefly before leading him out of the room. “Do you have any show rituals?”

Din shrugged. “Not really. I usually do the same stretches and warm up.” He thought about it for a moment. “Grogu says I have a lucky shirt. It’s in my bag.”

You laughed. You realized, as you grabbed Adrian and started your ritual handshake, that you felt more at ease, more comfortable than you usually did before a performance.

It must be because of Din, you figured. It was hard to be nervous when you knew he’d be there with you for every step. Adrian hugged you, and you squeezed him until he made an “oof” sound.

“Ok, ok, let me go. Don’t squeeze me to death.” You laughed at his grumbling as Adrian pulled back to check his costume in the mirror. “Go do your thing, I’ll see you backstage later.”

You pulled off your sweats and left them at your spot. You grabbed your pointe shoes and turned to face Din, who was looking at you. Well, he was looking at your legs. You grinned. 

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. As you passed him, you murmured, “who’s checking who out now, hmm?” 

Din followed you out, and once in the hall, he said, smirking, “I already confessed.”

You made your way backstage together and found a spot where you could warm up in the large area behind the wings. You put on your shoes and began to help each other stretch.

Kuiil found you there a few minutes later, and he smiled down at you both. “Are you ready?”

You both nodded, but Din said, “we are.” His voice was firm and warm and it made you smile.

Kuiil nodded. “Yes, you are. Excellent. I will be in the audience. I wish to see it as I meant others to see it. I will see you soon.” He reached down and rested a hand on each of your shoulders. “Remember. Be in the moment, and be there for each other.”

WIth that, he turned and made his way down the hall and, you presumed, out to the audience. You felt warmed from his clear pride and belief in the two of you together. 

As you finished stretching, you heard the audience settle down, and you figured the house lights had just gone down. Your guess was confirmed when you heard Karga’s voice welcoming everyone to the gala.

“Good evening,” he began, and you could picture the wide smile on his face. “Thank you for celebrating our 5th anniversary with us. We are so pleased to have you here.” The crowd applauded, and Karga chuckled. “Yes, thank you. We have a wonderful program planned for you tonight, with pieces that feature the best of what our amazing dancers can do. All of our choreographers – Vince, Talia, Jee, and our visiting choreographer in residence, Kuiil – have prepared new, never before seen pieces for you just for this gala.” The audience applauded again. “We are so grateful for your patronage, and we hope you enjoyed this season. Please, sit back and enjoy the visual feast we have prepared – and don’t forget about the free refreshments during intermission!" That got a light chuckle from the audience. “Thank you.”

The crowd applauded once more, and you assumed Karga was walking off stage. You heard the curtains open and nudged Din. You tilted your head towards the wings, silently asking if he wanted to go watch the quartet. He shook his head and motioned for you to stand with him. He leaned in and murmured, “I’d rather warm up a bit more with you.”

You’d seen the quartet in dress rehearsal, and it really was beautiful. It was funny to think that it had been your original role in this program. You nodded and joined him in some light jumps and lunges, and then spent a few minutes warming up your ankles.

You heard the quartet’s music begin to build towards its crescendo. Before you could turn to head backstage, Din grabbed your arm and reeled you in. He placed his hands at your waist and you let yours rest lightly on his forearms again. He leaned in and rested his forehead lightly against yours. 

“You’re going to blow them away,” he murmured, and you felt that familiar feeling that he inspired start to well up in you. “Ready?”

You nodded. “You too, Din. Show them who you are.”

He pulled back and smiled at you. As you turned, you slid your hand down his arm and tangled your hands together. You walked backstage hand-in-hand.

The quartet was just finishing up when you found a place to stand together, out of the way of their exit. You caught Phil’s eye where he stood with his headset on by the tiny backstage lamp, and he nodded at you. You tugged on Din’s hand. “Here we go.”

He nodded at you and released your hand. You would go out first on your own, and then Din, and then you would be on stage together. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Just before you stepped forward, you heard Din murmur, “beautiful.”

You stepped into the wings with a smile playing around your mouth. And then the music started, and all you thought about was the dance.

…

You’d never felt like this before. You’d never danced like this before. 

From the moment you stepped onto the stage, you could feel it – you were going to nail it. And you did.

You whirled through your solo, and leapt off the stage just in time for Din to enter after you. You watched him and you could see it – he felt it, too. You grinned, and then forced it off your face. He was a stranger, and you were meeting for the first time.

You spun back onto the stage at your cue and you felt his eyes trace across your shoulders like a caress. The two of you danced past each other, circled each other, glanced off of each other, just barely not touching. The connection between you pulled taut and you swore you could see where he was on stage even when you weren’t looking at him.

It would have stolen your breath away, if you had let it – you’d never felt so in sync with another dancer before. 

The first movement ended with the two of you touching, briefly, and then dancing away from each other. As you were about to exit into the wings, you looked back, and caught him already looking at you. You both froze, and then darted off stage.

The audience burst into applause. You grinned at the dancers waiting backstage for Talia’s ballet, and they met you with silent cheers and pats on the shoulder as you passed. 

You headed straight for the door to the backstage area, looking for Din.

He must have had the same idea, because as you turned into the hall that ran behind the stage, you found him almost jogging towards you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him.

“You and me,” he said, breathlessly, and you nodded.

…

You had to wait through two longer pieces for the second movement, which would be between Talia and Vince’s collaboration piece and Jee’s. Wary of getting too cold, you returned to Din’s small dressing room, grabbing your sweats on the way. You didn’t want to break the bubble you could feel forming around the two of you.

Din pulled you into the room behind him and then into a loose hug. “I want to hold you tighter,” he murmured, “but this paint.” 

You laughed. “It’s probably for the best.” He hummed. “Ok. We can rest for a minute, and then we need to get ready for the second. And go stay warm.” He nodded. 

“You were beautiful.” His voice sounded deeper than normal and you shivered in his arms. 

“So were you, Din.”

…

There was a barre set up backstage for warming up, and the two of you stayed there as you waited. You watched as the dancers heading backstage moved around you for Talia’s piece and then Talia and Vince’s collaboration, but you and Din stayed in your own little world. That wasn’t unusual, for a piece like yours. You practiced a couple of lifts just to have something to do.

You were ready.

With only a few minutes to go, Din leaned into you again. “Ready?” 

You nodded. He grabbed your hand, this time, and led you backstage.

The piece Talia and Vince had collaborated on was almost over – it had three couples, a mix of principals and soloists, and you let yourself watch them for a few moments. When it was almost time, Din tugged you in again, foreheads together. 

“Let’s blow them away,” you said, stealing his words from earlier. He smiled.

For the second movement, you started on stage, so you stepped away from Din to go take your place when the lights went down. Alone on stage, in the dark, you took a deep breath. As the music started, you stretched into position, and sank into your character. 

You felt Din’s presence when he leapt on stage, and from there, the chase was on. 

In the second movement, you circled each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. Glancing touches brought you together and then hesitation drove you apart. You wanted to know each other, to understand each other, but you had to find a way to communicate. To make yourselves understood.

You began to mirror each other’s movements, to adopt each other’s styles. You found common ground between you to build on and with the first lift so firmly grounded, it felt like you flew into the air. Din held you aloft and then flipped you downwards, catching you in another hold. You spun away and felt him follow you, and the connection between you strengthened.

Just like the first movement, you could barely think, could only feel – and it felt amazing. You knew, distantly, that you and Din were performing at a level neither of you had managed alone. You had created something new, something that could only exist because you made it together.

The second ended with you and Din briefly together, and then your character shied away – you ran from him, twirling off stage without looking back. He reached for you just before the lights went down.

The audience erupted. You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Adrian was backstage, ready for Jee’s piece, and he looked like he wanted to run over and hug you. But just then Din came through the wings behind you and you felt his arms circle your waist. 

He didn’t pull you too close (the paint) but he leaned forward to breathe into your ear, “so fucking beautiful.”

You shivered, and Adrian winked at you. You laughed and tugged Din behind you into the hall.

You didn’t have as long of a break this time, only the length of Jee’s piece, which was only about 25 minutes. You knew you didn’t really have time to go far.

As you entered the hall, Din grabbed your hand, and made a sharp right. Just around the corner out of sight he backed you against the wall. 

He leaned on the wall with his forearm by your head. For a moment neither of you said anything – you were both breathing hard, chests almost touching every time you took a breath. His eyes caught yours and you couldn’t look away.

“I’ve never…” he trailed off, and you nodded. You understood. 

“Me neither,” you breathed, and his eyes darted down to look at your lips. The feeling that had built inside of you during the performance turned into fire.

“Din–” you started, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He pulled away almost as quickly.

“I know,” he said, “I know.” He leaned back, and looked at you again. “I never dreamed it could be like this. I think I was meant to dance with you.”

You were glad you were already leaning against the wall, because your knees threatened to give out at his words. “Me too,” you said. His hand came up to cup your cheek lightly, careful of your makeup. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get ready for the third.”

You nodded and let him lead you back down the hall.

…

You thought you’d be nervous, as you stood in the wings before the third movement. You’d gone backstage a little bit earlier than before to watch Adrian, but it wasn’t distracting you. 

But that might have had something to do with Din’s presence at your back and his hand tangled with yours.

You breathed together as you watched and sank back into your characters. In the third, you were almost always touching – almost always chasing or being chased, grabbing or holding on. The movements revolved around your need to be together and create something new together.

As Jee’s piece came to a close, you felt Din step closer. He kept hold of your hand but wrapped his other arm around your shoulders from the back. “One more,” he murmured in your ear. “Let’s show them who we are.” You smiled and nodded. He squeezed your hand.

In the third, you started off stage. In the wings you both took a deep breath, and then the music started. You darted on quickly with Din at your heels, and from there you were off.

He chased you across the stage, and you let him catch you on the other side. You twirled around each other, leaping together, pulling each other along. He supported you through turns and lifts and jumps and you let yourself sink into the music. You internally marveled at how you seemed to be two dancers with one brain – you would reach for him, and he would be there, every time.

When you reached the pique turn, a smile played around your mouth. Din tugged you backwards by your ankle, capturing you and lifting you into a spin. Your body moved through the familiar steps, and when it came time to launch yourself through the air so he could catch you, you fought a grin off your face.

He lifted you over his shoulder, and let yourself appreciate, just for a moment, the strength of the muscles in his back.

Din tilted you back up and let you slide down against his chest. You sank into it with ease, and the two of you let the moment linger. You met his gaze and saw the smile dancing behind his eyes.

From there the choreography built to a crescendo that had you breathing hard, coordinating your movements perfectly to stay in contact – your hand on his leg, his arm around his waist, your arm around his neck, his shoulders supporting you. It pushed you upward and forward until, suddenly, you stopped, facing each other. You breathed as the last note held, staring into each other’s eyes, and then slowly folded into an embrace that took you both to your knees. 

The lights went out, and for a moment you couldn’t make sense of the sound that washed over you. You looked up at Din, and then out to the audience. It seemed like everyone in the theater had taken to their feet, cheering and applauding.

The rest of the company was backstage cheering, too.

Din leaned backwards and stood, offering his hand to pull you up, too. You took it, and he tugged you forward so that you had to lean into him just a bit. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the lights came up.

You both turned to the audience, bodies moving into the familiar stance, ready to take your bows. But you were both taken aback when somehow the applause got louder.

You glanced at Din, but he swept you forward, and before you could stop him, presented you to the audience. 

You smiled, and when it was his turn, did the same for him.

As soon as you were done, the rest of the company poured out of the wings to join you on stage, and the standing ovation seemed to go on forever. Adrian popped out of the crowd at your side and wrapped you both up in a hug, which startled Din and made you laugh. “That was fucking amazing!” he shouted in your ear, and you laughed. Din started to smile, too, and you squeezed his hand, still tangled with yours between you.

You looked at him as the company moved to take a final bow together, and for a moment, you couldn’t hear the noise around you at all.

You could only see Din, smiling at you, so widely his eyes crinkled. 

Beautiful.

...

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a/n: they did it!! I'm so proud of them!!! next week... what happens after the gala? 😏 we finally earn those smut tags, lol. I don't really have any notes this week, but let me know if you have any questions! 🧡 and don't forget to check out the art!!

[kitsunexgari]

Summary: Trying to get a drink to relax after work one night, a strange but handsome man sits across the bar with his eyes on you. At first, you are annoyed by this but upon second glance, he seems to be the most enticing man you've ever laid your eyes upon, and he only wants one thing. Tags: Dirty talk, Risky & Semi-Public Sex, Fingering, Rough Sex, Mild Daddy kink, Extreme-Dub-Con Notes: This story is fan fiction for Front Man/Hwang In-Ho and not meant for anyone under the age of 18. It contains rough language and adult situations. Not sure if this makes sense either it's just a little idea that I had consider it AU if you must.

You first notice him eyeing you across the bar. He's only looking at you and he's kind of creepy. Though you do find him attractive you can't help but think he also could be a serial killer. You get your drink and slip away, trying to find somewhere else to sit down. You really only wanted to get a drink after work, maybe talk to some people, but you weren't hoping for any sort of hook-up. This place typically has decent clientele but not tonight. Not with how the creep in the nice suit keeps staring you down.

You get out your phone to browse it and pretend to be busy. You can see him circling around like a hawk. Ready to swoop in at a moment's notice. You try not to pay him any attention but it's not easy. He's very tall, and handsome, and his suit is sexy, flashy, and just as dark as his eyes. Without warning, he sits down across from you as if you already had a prearranged meeting. You look up at him.

"Not interested." You say.

"Then maybe I can change your mind." He says.

"I don't think so," You reply and go back to your phone. He continues to sit there anyway, staring at you as if he can change your thoughts with his own telepathically. After about a minute of this you get up and head away from there to change seats. He stays where he is but his eyes follow you. It's like you can feel them moving over every inch of your body. You wonder why he's stuck on you in the first place.

There are other people at the bar, men and women. Very attractive. It isn't as if he doesn't have a lot to choose from. You keep looking at your phone, trying to pretend he's not bothering you. It would be easier to just leave but you also want to finish your drink which cost close to fifteen dollars, and it's good. You figure that eventually he'll get bored and move on to something else.

Eventually, you manage to engross yourself in a story you find online and lose track of where he is and what he's doing. When you look up again, your drink is mostly finished and he is nowhere to be seen. You smile and shut off your phone, taking a moment to relax and sit back in your chair. Savor your drink and enjoy the final moments of your evening before heading to your car to go home.

As you stand up, you realize that you have to pee. It's not that far to the bathroom and it won't take that long so you head through the back into the waiting area that sections off the men's room from the lady's room. As you enter, you see he is waiting there. Sitting on the couch just between the two doors. You gasp. He turns and smiles.

"Thought you might change your mind." He says.

"I didn't." You reply, "Don't you have anything better to do than hang around me all night?" He stands up, coming right at you. With a forceful grab of your arm he yanks you into the women's restroom. You scream out in surprise but he's fast. He puts his hand over your mouth and presses his back against the door to shut it. In one swift move he has it locked and is pulling you to the opposite wall. He shoves you into it, pinning you there and looking down into your eyes.

"I know I didn't change my mind and I also know what I want." He whispers, "Now, I'm going to move my hand, if you scream you'll regret it." In this lighting and context you can see just how incredibly handsome he is. Positively gorgeous. You don't think there has ever been a man this intent on capturing you in such a manner. Your face starts to flush with arousal as fear flutters through your stomach. Why does he want you so bad and even more...why do you suddenly want him? You nod, signifying you understand what he's saying and he slowly moves his hand away from your mouth.

"What are...you going to do to me?" You ask.

"Looks like anything I want." He says and turns you to face the wall. His large hand comes up, pressing your cheek into the bricks. He keeps you held there but you are so excited by this point that the last thing you can think to do is run away from him or even try. You want him, badly. You can feel how wet you are getting just thinking about how hard he's going to fuck you. His free hand slides up under your skirt and his fingers move teasingly over the crotch of your panties. "I'm not hearing any protests now, am I?" You groan softly.

"No...but I-"

"Shhh...be a good girl and take Daddy's cock like you're meant to." He says. Leaning against you heavily, he shifts and you hear him unzip his pants. There is a bit more movement as he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side. He runs two fingers over your wet folds, teasing your clit and provoking another moan. Two of them slip inside of you, working in and out to get you even more slick and ready for him.

"Please just let me-"

"I told you to be quiet." He snaps, and you can feel his hot breath against your ear. His hand moves from your cunt and from behind her slips his hand over your mouth again, jamming the two fingers he just used on you in past your lips and onto your tongue. You start to suck on them heavily, your eyes rolling back in your head as he takes a moment to thrust into you roughly from behind. Your scream of surprise and pleasure is muffled by his fingers as he starts to thrust. "Keep sucking...clean them nice and good for me..." He orders.

You do your best to fulfill his commands but it's not easy. He is working his hips in ways you didn't know possible. Seeming to hit every spot inside of you in just the right way. His grunting and groaning is animalistic, like a dog in heat. You feel his mouth slip to your neck, biting here and there. Sometimes hard enough to get you to scream again as his sharp teeth break the skin. You groan and shiver, his tongue hungrily lapping up the blood in the wake of the wounds he's leaving. The combined pain with pleasure pushing you closer and closer to climax. His hand slips from your mouth to grab one of your tits through the cloth of your blazer. You squeal and he thrusts harder, the same hand now traveling down past the hem of your skirt into the front of your panties.

"Ready to cum all over daddy's cock?" He purrs and thrusts painfully hard, getting as far inside of you as possible.

"Y-Yes...Daddy...please let me cum..." You whine loudly. His fingers brush over your clit then apply pressure expertly. You cry out as your orgasm hits, his moans eclipsing yours as you both climax together. His thrusts like a jackhammer as you are pressing into the wall. You continue to ride the waves of ecstasy over, and over, taking this brutal pounding until you are both entirely spent. He leans into you, with his full weight once he's finished. You can smell him, the scent of sex, and his cologne. The entire experience is addictive. You've never felt anything like this.

A few moments later he pulls back and slaps your ass roughly. You whine, leaning against the wall trying to get your breath back. He grabs your hand and jams something into it."I'll be here again. Same time next Friday. Don't be late." He says and walks out of there. You blink, wondering if you heard that right and then look at what he's handed you. It's a business card with some weird symbols on it. You still aren't sure of who he is or what exactly happened here but you do know that you will not be late for your next "date" with him. That's for sure.

[limethefirst]

I've been reading all your recent Shadow fics and they're all SO CUTE!!! It makes me so happy to see where Shadow sort of gets to have a second chance with a new Maria, one where he can keep them safe. I was wondering though, how do you think he would react if they dyed red streaks into their hair to look like him?

Red Hair Dye

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: after a trip to the store you see a hair dye that reminds you of your favorite little hedgehog

a/n: hey guys sorry i was gone this week, school started back up so slow updates and i just went through a break up so just taking things slow, here's your request tysm for your patience! (This reminds me of when I had pink highlights 😭)

The store was quiet, it was late so it wasn't very strange. You walked through the aisles, looking at all its contents. It was a small corner store no more then a 3 minute walk from your place. Light jazz music played as beeping of machines echoed through the front of the store.

You stopped in the hair dye section, taking a look at all the colors, thinking which one you liked best, not that you were sure you were even going to dye your hair. Until you spotted it, a crimson red hair dye that looked like it was on sale.

Pausing, you stared at it a bit before ultimately picking it up. You looked at the brand, knowing it was a trust worthy one when it came to hair damage and color, so without a second thought you quickly shoved it into your basket before continuing to browse a bit more.

The trip was short lived and quickly you found yourself rushing to your bathroom, excited to try the new color you'd bought. Shadow was somewhere about but didn't seem to try and find you, seemingly hearing your rush to reach the bathroom, almost paying no mind to it.

Opening the box you grabbed everything inside, basically dumping it out onto your sink as you sorted through it. The instructions were simple, so you just went with the flow, prepping your hair and sectioning it the way you wanted.

After your hair was ready, you started to mix some of the paint, making sure to add the right amount of color so that it would be bright enough on your hair. After a bit of mixing you grabbed the small brush that came in the box, as well as the gloves. You slipped the gloves on slowly and started to apply the red.

It was a tiring process, taking you over 20 minutes to finally finish. By that point your arms were tired from being held up so long. Swiftly you exhaled and sat down against the wall, making sure your hair wasn't messed up.

A small knock interrupted your waiting. You slightly opened the door, not realizing how strong the smell of paint truly was, as the hedgehog took a quick step back, his nose scrunching.

"What are you doing?" He asked, arms crossed, not being able to fully see you as you hid behind the door, wanting to keep the hair a surprise.

You let out a small chuckle before playfully responding, "It's a secret," Shadow just gave a small sigh, knowing you wouldn't tell him till later with that type of answer.

"Don't take long then" Shadow said before turning away, probably going to go sit in your room, although he'd never say it he found comfort around you more then he did most. It was nice to be special.

You closed the door quickly, and sat in the bathroom a bit longer, waiting at least 30 minutes so that the dye would set. Shadow found it a bit annoying at how long you were taking and he was very curious as to what exactly that smell was, it was like chemicals. Maybe you were cleaning, but the more Shadow thought the more he knew it would not be cleaning.

You took a quick shower, the water was cold to make sure not a lot of dye left your hair. Once you were done the bathroom was a red mess that you'd hope would be able to come off later.

Drying yourself and changing you put on some of the lasting products in the box which were supposed to make the dye last longer as you fixed your hair, excited to show Shadow the result.

Walking towards your room you found Shadow on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed and his posture straight as he kept his gaze steady on the novela in front of him. His eyes quickly changed over to you as he saw you enter, the first thing that caught his attention though was your hair.

It looked like you had red highlights in your hair, he was shocked to see your new look.

"I thought we could match!" You cheerfully said making your way over to him as he saw bits of red.

He let out a small huff of approval, "It looks nice," He now stood up, as you sat on the ground taking in the sight.

"So you like the emo highlights?" You jokingly asked him, knowing how Sonic and his friends had called him the emo hedgehog before.

Shadow just gave you a straight face before walking past you and out your door.

Quickly you sprung to your feet, apologizing as you followed him out, "I was kidding come back!"

[crackedpumpkin]

All Too Human (02)

| 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

The advantage of being confined in the dungeons in an elven kingdom of another world you'd only read about in books, is that you didn't have a choice but to touch grass .

Figuratively, of course. The only form of grass you actually could find in your cell is damp moss. You'd recoiled from the grimy walls in the beginning, fingers itching for your phone, and your heart aching for your home.

Is this what it's like to go cold turkey without technology? you wonder, as futile as it seems when your hand meets the emptiness of your pockets each time. This sucks.

It’s probably around midnight, you guesstimate, as the dwarves are being shoved into individual cells. Your head tilts slightly when you hear a calm, boyishly charming voice speak up.

“Aren’t you going to search me? I could have anything down my trousers.” 

You suppress a cringe. Curiosity wins out over caution, and you step closer, eyeing the scene as the supposed heroes of the book voice their protests. A female elf stands in front of the cell to your left, staring down at one of the dwarves.

“Or nothing.” She smiles coldly, though a flicker of amusement passes through her gaze before she masks it in an instant. She turns, ready to leave. Your eyes meet hers, and a chill settles between you.

You’ve seen her before. Realisation dawns on you, and you snap your fingers. She’s the elf from the room you woke up in. The one Legolas likes. Well, Legolas and one of these dwarves. Fili, was it?

Either way, you feel nothing but pity for their little love triangle.

“You.” Her voice is devoid of warmth, eyes narrowing as she takes in your unusually clean appearance. You wave halfheartedly in response. She rolls her eyes and moves past your cell, paying you no mind.

Gripping the bars of the cell door, you watch her leave with Legolas. The elven prince glances back at you, brief concern flitting across his expression, before turning to follow her.

Even though you’ve tried to accept that one of your ( formerly ) favourite characters barely acknowledges you now, you can’t help but feel disappointed by his lack of empathy. He showed you concern at first, but over time it became clear that you were never of much importance to him anyway.

“Is there someone next to me?” The same charming voice calls out, his curiosity evident. Fili. You’re pretty sure it’s Fili that the elf has a situationship with. Ignoring his repeated question, you step toward the back of your cell, laying back down in the darkness with a sigh.

Minutes, maybe hours have passed since the dwarves were imprisoned, and the noise doesn’t cease. More cries of protest, vulgar swears (vulgar to them, but to you it’s like listening to a D&D party) , and lots of banging against their cell doors.

The one next to your cell seems to forget you’re even there, preoccupied by his daydreaming of the female elf, you suspect. What was her name again? You try to recall, feeling bad that her name hadn’t remained in your memory whilst the other two did. 

Tawny.

Her name is Tawny , you decide with a vague sense of uncertainty. 

Sleep feels as distant as the hot showers you’ve taken for granted in the past, but exhaustion pulls at you, demanding some rest despite the racket. You shift against the cold, hard floor, eyes drooping as you finally start to drift off.

But just as you’re about to fully pass out, a fresh wave of shouting erupts, this time more intense. Heavy footsteps approach, and a low, gravelly voice grumbles — almost growling — in defiance. 

You sit up, grogginess partially clouding your mind. Blinking to rid the sleep from your eyes, you watch another dwarf being shoved into the cell opposite yours. His gaze is dark, and his gritted teeth tell you that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

He had that main character energy about him. If you aren’t wrong, he might be the very dwarf in charge of the whole group. God, you really hope you aren’t wrong.

Metal clangs as he’s forced inside, and he slams against the cell bars with a ferocity that startles you fully awake. His deep, frustrated voice fills the air, hurling harsh dwarvish insults that echo down the corridor, stirring a chorus of support from the others. It’s as if his very presence reignites their determination.

You let out a long, tired sigh. 

Looks like you won’t be sleeping tonight.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you lean back, hoping the noise will eventually quiet down. But with their leader riled up, the others become even more animated, pounding against their bars and shouting until their voices become hoarse.

Your patience is stretched thin, and with each clang of metal or shouted curse, it frays a little more. You start pressing your hands over your ears, even resorting to tugging up half the tunic to cover them, but nothing dulls the sound. 

Someone curses loudly enough that you jerk in your cell, biting back a groan. Eyes shut, you count to ten, then twenty, then thirty, promising yourself calm. But the noise only builds, louder and more grating by the second.

Something in you finally snaps. You raise your arm and slam it against your cell door, the metal clanging loud enough to cut through the noise. “I swear to God , if you guys don’t shut up for like, five minutes, I’m going to murder you myself.” The words hiss out louder than you intended, echoing through the dungeon like an accusation.

The dwarves fall silent, their protests cut off mid-sentence. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes shifting toward your cell, surprised, hopefully a little impressed even, by the venom in your tone.

Thorin, in the cell directly across from you, lets out a low, humourless chuckle. “Bold words for someone trapped in a cage of her own,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. He crosses his arms, leaning against the walls of his cell. His eyes are narrowed, studying your being as if assessing how much of a threat you are

“Oh, quiet as mice for hours, and she suddenly snaps,” another dwarf with a long white beard chimes in, his tone amused. “Can’t say I blame her, mind. Some of us have been… shall we say, louder than others.” He gives a pointed glance toward the dwarf in the cell beside yours (the one you’ve assumed to be Fili).

“Who’s loud?” The voice comes from the left, a thick layer of teasing in his tone. “I think she’s just upset because we’ve been better company than her.”

You blink, absolutely floored by the audacity. “Are you shitting me?” you fire back, incredulous. “Better company? I don’t even fucking know who you are.”

“Oh, but you do know us now, don’t you?” he quips back, undeterred. “And I’d wager I’m the most charming cellmate you’ve ever had.”

You scoff. “Perish in a ditch, I beg of you.”

His chuckle is warm and unapologetic, and you can hear the grin in his voice even if you can’t see it. “Maybe it’s for the best that we aren’t proper cellmates. I’d probably steal all your attention.”

If he kept talking you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst a blood vessel or something from frustration. Instead, you hang your head and mumble out another plea like for the love of God please shut up so I can get some sleep.

“Oh, aye, that’s one way to call it,” the kind dwarf from earlier mutters, laughing softly. “Maybe we’ve all worn on her nerves, eh? A bit of quiet might do us all good.”

With an exhausted huff, you mutter, “Honestly, you guys are like a D&D party with no volume control.” A beat passes before the cellmate on your right breaks the silence.

“What’s a D&D party?”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Exhaling slowly, exhaustion tinges each word that falls from your lips. “It’s…It’s nothing. Just, please let me sleep? It’s probably already three in the morning.” 

Your request doesn’t go unheard, and the dwarves begin to quiet down.

Laying back down on the cold floor, your eyes finally shut.

 — — — — — —

After your outburst from last night, you found yourself falling silent for the entire day. The cell door creaks open, the guard placing the usual tray of food down with a warning glare. You watch him leave with a scoff.

As if you had any energy to fight. They’d probably kick your ass in five seconds flat. Maybe ten, if you’re lucky.

“Where’s our food?” 

You glance over at the cell beside Thorin’s, the dwarf inside whose question draws your attention, and catch sight of a dwarf with a tousled hat perched messily atop his head. He has a friendly face, framed by a bushy beard that seems to bounce with every word that leaves him.

Now that you think about it, all three dwarves opposite you have long beards, obscuring the lower half of their face. Damn. They’d do great as before and after models for a razor commercial, maybe break a Guinness World Record while at it too.

You can’t help but notice how he leans against the bars, a grin spreading across his face. He falters when the guards walk past him without another word, leaving you to your meal. You choose to sit in the dimly illuminated area of your cell near the door, slowly chewing the coarse bread. 

Sensing someone’s gaze, you look up to see the dwarves across (excluding Thorin), their gazes fixed on the tray with a hint of hunger. You glance from the tray to them, uncertainty gnawing at your gut.

Should you?

On one hand, you knew perfectly well that they're the good guys. Technically the elves are too , you think, struggling to recall the twisted morals that Tolkien, that bitch, wrote about.

It's no wonder you couldn’t remember much. With the complexity of the world he built and the fact that you'd only been sixteen or so when you last read about Bilbo and his adventures, you probably would've died had you not recalled Sauron's name.

With a sigh, the decision is made. “Stick your hand out,” you say gruffly. Their eyes widen, but they follow your instructions, a mix of reluctance and hope in their expressions. You tear the loaf into three, keeping one for yourself.

Hollowing out the bread with your fingers, you fill it with roasted vegetables from a wooden bowl. The dwarves watch, curious about your next move.

Standing up, you pray your trusty aim hasn't grown rusty. Extending your arm through the bars of your cell, you inhale slowly before flicking your wrist. The first makeshift bun leaves your hand, plopping neatly into the palm of the white-bearded dwarf.

He beams, withdrawing his hand back into his cell. “Thank you, lass!” he calls out gratefully, munching down. The second dwarf is more eager now, catching the second bun you throw. His expression morphs into one of disgust when he sees the vegetables inside, only to hurriedly take big bites when he sees your glare.

You’d be damned if he tried to throw away the precious food you’d so kindly given them. With a satisfied smile, you flex your fingers, recalling the countless hours spent at the batting cages back home. Dartboards, too. Not exactly a common hobby you shared with your friends, but it gave you an aim you could trust, and a reminder of who you truly are.

“So lass, what brings you here to the dungeons of the woodland realm?” The kindness in the first dwarf’s voice prompts you to part your lips, only to pause when you see Thorin’s eyes set on you, waiting for your response.

You swallow. 

“Why should I spill my secrets to a bunch of strangers?” You reply dryly, drawing a chuckle from him. The memory of how you’d been treated when you’d started saying stuff about how you’re from another world makes you press your lips together in a thin line. Who’s to say they wouldn’t see you the same way they did?

“Aye, ye've got it right. I’m Balin, and this here is Thorin. The oaf who almost got all of us in trouble is Bofur.”

“I’m Kili,” the cellmate on your right chimes in. “And I’m Fili,” the other on your left adds. 

“Oh.” You blink. “Oh shit, I got you mixed up, huh. You’re the one who’s gonna have that whole thing with Tawny the elf.” You gesture aimlessly with the remains of your third of the loaf in your hands, shaking your head in sympathy.

“Are you talking about Tauriel?” Confusion laces his words. You mentally berate yourself for mixing up yet another character’s name, clearing your throat.

“Right. Tauriel. That’s what I said. It’s just my nickname for her. Like how Legolas is…Lego, and Thranduil is…” Your voice trails off, racking your brains to come up with a suitable nickname. 

“Is?” Fili prompts. 

“A bitch.” You refuse to elaborate, disdain flitting across your face. Bofur seems to catch it, raising his brows in intrigue. 

“Now that we’re acquainted, how is it that a fair maiden like you ended up in this dungeon all alone?” Kili asks. 

The more you got to hear him speak, the more you have an inkling as to how Tauriel had fallen for him in the first place. If he were back home, he’d definitely be a girl magnet, that’s for sure.

You let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to sit against the wall, knees slightly bent. “I didn’t exactly make a good impression on the king. Said a few things he didn’t like and mentioned a few things he wanted to keep private, and well,” you gesture sarcastically to the dungeon, “here I am.”

You glance at Thorin’s cell, half expecting him to have his back turned, lost in his brooding thoughts. Instead, piercing eyes meet yours, and it takes a moment to process that he seems genuinely curious about your story.

Now that you’ve got his attention, you’re unsure of what to say. Swallowing thickly, you weigh your options. You could reveal that you know their future now, but it wouldn’t be the best move. 

Most of them are still wary of you, and suddenly saying stuff like hey, I know all about your super secret quest that you wanna keep under wraps and I know the dragon’s going to wake up is sure to earn you a one way ticket to Hell, or whatever the equivalent is here.

Before you can say anything however, the atmosphere shifts, a sudden tension in the air. Thorin’s expression which was once indifferent is now wary, eyeing you with newfound suspicion. “It still doesn’t explain what you’re doing all the way out here. You’d have had to pass through Mirkwood and survive.”

Your throat suddenly becomes dry. Flexing your clammy hands, you stare down at your lap. “I don’t know either,” your voice comes out soft, unintentionally revealing the vulnerability beneath the bravado you’d exhibited the night before. “I just woke up in there one day, and one of the elves saved my life. Since then, I’ve been imprisoned here after the audience with the king.”

Thorin's eyes narrow as if he’s searching for something in your expression. “And what is your name, then? Where do you hail from?”

Before you can answer, Balin interjects, his tone light but firm. “Now, now, Thorin, let’s not frighten the lass. She’s been through enough, hasn’t she?” His voice is soothing, like a balm over the tense air that hangs between you and the king.

Thorin's gaze softens slightly. Balin continues, “She’s a visitor in a strange land, after all. No need for an interrogation when we could simply have a conversation instead.”

You take a moment to collect yourself, grateful for Balin’s attempt to ease the tension. Maybe a part of you has been desperate all this time for someone to talk to, otherwise you wouldn’t have given away your name this easily when he asks again. 

“I live in… well, a place far south of here. San Francisco, if you’ve ever heard of it.”

Thorin’s brow furrows in confusion. “San Francisco? Is that a town of men?”

“And women,” you correct. 

“Of course, women.” Every word that comes out of Kili’s mouth is sarcastic, eliciting an amused laugh from his brother. 

“Very funny,” you sigh, tilting your head back and staring at the ceiling. “Tell that to Tauriel tonight.” The only reason you’d remembered that they’d have a whole conversation was because you recall practically swooning at his romance. 

Looking back, however, you can’t help but recall how cringey their conversation would be about. Something about his mother’s treasure and the flirting…It makes you cringe. 

A moment passes before he speaks again, clearly flustered by the sudden callout. “What do you mean? How do you know if she’s coming or not?”

Before you can answer, footsteps that wander down the corridor halt right outside your door. Watching the guard you'd grown to recognise over the weeks, you wait with bated breath when he brings forth a singular key, unlocking your cell.

“You are to be transferred.” He speaks emotionlessly, eyes flitting over the dirt that stains your cheeks and hands filled with scratches from clumsy attempts at standing. “By his Majesty's orders.” 

“Where?” Caution is the only word that encompasses how you feel in the moment, filling every word. Your heart begins to race in your chest, much like the moment before you passed out after Legolas had rescued you from the spider. Why, out of all times would Thranduil give such an order? 

As your gaze meets Thorin's, it hits you like a sack of bricks being thrown at your stomach. He didn't want them knowing about the stuff you'd said. Even if his scepticism kept him from believing you, there must've been some part of him that doesn’t want his prisoner overhearing it. 

You look up at the guard, an odd sense of calm filling your chest. “Tell Thranduil that if he transfers me, I might just somehow let slip to the dwarves about the things I know.” 

It's a pathetic threat, really, but enough to make the guard hesitate. Uncertainty taints his gaze, though his firm hands grab you by the shoulders, throwing you near the exit of your cell.

“Didn't your boss tell you not to harm me?” You spit through gritted teeth. Now that you have confirmation about his intentions, courage bursts forth from an unknown place within you.

You're tired of being thrown about, tired of catering to his whim and reciting events you  barely remember like you’re back in school once again, forced to read a passage aloud in class when the teacher caught you sleeping.

Wiping your cheek with a bitter smile, you stumble to your feet. “Just let me take a bath while you relay this to him: I may not remember much, but what I do know will benefit those dwarves and allow doom to befall your people.” 

Since when did you start speaking so dramatically?

Maybe it's due to the time (unwillingly) spent with Thranduil that’s changed your vocabulary. The idea makes you grimace, hiding your disdain with a cough.

The guard's eyes narrow slightly as he processes your words. “You think I’m afraid of your threats?” he scoffs, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays his uncertainty. “You’re just a human girl trapped in a dungeon. What could you possibly know that would matter to the likes of us?”

He glances back at Thorin and Balin, who watch him intently. The tension in the air thickens, and for a fleeting moment, the guard seems torn between his duty to Thranduil and the possibility that you might hold some valuable knowledge.

“Fine,” he says finally, his tone grudgingly respectful. “I’ll pass on your message. But don’t think for a second that this will change anything for you. You’re still at his mercy.”

He steps back, still eyeing you warily. A sense of victory fills your grin, but it's quickly dimmed by the appearance of another guard. 

The new arrival, tall and broad-shouldered, takes a position directly in front of you, effectively blocking you from view of the dwarves in the cells around you.

“Keep her out of sight,” the first guard mutters under his breath, as if he’s already second-guessing your little threat. The second guard nods and shifts to your left, standing close enough that his form casts a shadow across your face.

Without sparing another glance at the dwarves, the guards flank you, one on either side. You can feel the weight of Thorin’s gaze, curious and intense, following you as you’re led away.

As you’re escorted down the winding corridors once again, reality starts to sink in. You just basically threatened a king, with nothing more than the vague knowledge that remains in your mind.

I’m so fucked, aren’t I?

— — — — — — 

The icy water that hits the bare skin of your shoulders makes you shiver involuntarily. Drawing your knees to your chest in the ornate bathtub, you stare at the soapy water that muddles your reflection.

You feel lost.

Days that had turned into weeks feels like an eternity. Has anyone back home even noticed you’ve gone missing? Numb to the freezing cold water being poured over your head once more, you state aimlessly at your hands. 

Once as smooth as a baby's arms, the skin of your fingertips are wrinkled and pruny, various tiny scratches on your palm from the tiny rocks that jut out from the floor of your cell. You’d grown used to them being there after the number of times you’ve collapsed from pure exhaustion after your workouts.

Your fingers trace one of the scars absently, following the jagged line like it’s a map that could somehow lead you home. The water laps against your skin, but the chill barely registers anymore. It’s as if you’re only half here, trapped in some distant limbo between two worlds. 

The first week, you’d clung to memories of the life you left behind. Your family, your friends, the hum of city life. Now, the details blur. You can hardly remember what your bedroom looked like, or the last meal you shared with someone. Every second in this place feels like another part of you drifting away, sinking into the fog that’s settled over your mind.

With a sigh, you let the water wash over you, hoping it will take with it some of the weariness weighing down your bones. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as cold rivulets stream down your cheeks, mingling with the tears you hadn’t realised were there.

Salt hits your tongue upon licking your lips, carelessly swiping the back of your hand across your closed eyes. “Time’s up.” A female elf notifies coldly, handing you a towel before stepping aside. Even though Thranduil had granted you opportunities to freshen up properly, he still placed someone on guard to ensure you wouldn’t run away.

Squeezing out the excess water from your hair, you press the towel to your body. Once dry, you take the fresh set of clothes from the chair next to you, putting them on. The tunic and pants aren’t as nice or extravagant as the quality the other elves wore, but it’s more than enough to keep you comfortable. 

The walk back to your cell is silent, the same guards flanking you until the cell door opens and slams shut behind you once more. You sit back down onto the hard floor with a weary sigh, staring at your empty palm. 

Warm clothes, familiar streets, your own bed, your phone… God, what you’d give for even five minutes with that little touchscreen, just to feel something connected to home. Feeling a heavy gaze set in your direction makes you glance up.

Thorin’s hands are clenched around the bars of his cell. Weariness, suspicion, distrust…all of the above taint the air in an almost suffocating manner. “Tell me. What knowledge makes you so certain of your guaranteed safety?” 

Standing up with an air of defiance, your composed state quickly crumbles when he tightens his grip. “Not some I’d be willing to spill so easily with a simple question.” Right now, everything that you know is a card in your favour, something that you can leverage.

Whether or not he’d take the bait would be an entirely different thing.

Sure enough, he bites. 

“And it is beneficial to us, you mentioned? Yet, Thranduil does not seem to care for your value.”

You cross your arms, trying to match his intensity despite the tight knot forming in your chest. “Maybe because he doesn’t know the half of it. Not everything I’ve got is common knowledge, Thorin Oakenshield .” The name comes out almost mockingly, the false bravado backfiring when you spot the tensing of his jaw.

“Then enlighten me,” he snaps. His voice is low but charged with frustration, eyes narrowing as if trying to strip away every layer of your defiance.

Your lips twist into a humorless smile. “Funny. That would kind of defeat the whole ‘leverage’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

Thorin’s knuckles whiten as his grip tightens. “Leverage? So that’s what this is to you — a game of manipulation? I’ve seen the likes of you before, always spinning words, always hiding behind secrets. What do you gain from this?”

“Because sitting around and doing nothing isn’t an option!” you snap back, pushing yourself up from where you’ve been sitting and stepping closer to the bars of your own cell. “Do you think I asked for any of this? I didn’t. I didn’t choose to be dragged here, or into your mess. But here I am, and like it or not, I’m trying to survive.”

His eyes narrow, suspicion clouding his expression. “And yet, here you stand,” he says coldly. “Unharmed, unbound. Thranduil doesn’t waste cells on anyone he deems unimportant, and you seem perfectly content to keep whatever use you have to him a secret.”

Your fists clench tightly, the sharp edges of your unkempt nails pushing past skin and drawing blood. “Do you think I’m ‘safe’ in here, Thorin?” you retort, your voice rising. “That bastard of an elf king is only tolerating me because he doesn’t know what to do with me. I’m as much a pawn to him as you are.”

“A pawn?” he repeats, his voice low but cutting. “No. Pawns are expendable. Whatever you are, he sees value in you — and until I know what that value is, I have no reason to trust you.”

“And you think I trust you ?” you shoot back, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “You’ve done nothing but glare and be mean to me since the moment we met. You demand answers, but what guarantee do I have that you’ll listen?”

His jaw tightens, his glare hardening. “You want guarantees? There are none. Not in this world, and certainly not in these halls. If you think you can bargain with secrets and survive unscathed, you are either very brave or very foolish.”

“Maybe both,” you snap, your composure unraveling. “But what choice do I have? You think I’m holding back just to irritate you? Everything I know, everything I can’t tell you yet, is the only thing keeping me from being completely useless here. I have to play my cards carefully, bitch, or I lose everything.”

His hands tighten on the bars, his knuckles pale against the cold iron. “Then perhaps you’ve already lost. Trust isn’t earned with half-truths and riddles. If you cannot prove your worth, then why should I risk the safety of my company for you?”

“Because whether you like it or not, you’ll need me!” you fire back, the words tumbling out before you can temper them. “I know things you don’t. Things that could help you. But if you keep treating me like a threat instead of an ally, then maybe I’m wasting my time even trying.”

For a moment, the silence between you is deafening. Thorin’s glare remains fixed on you, unyielding, but there’s a flicker of something (doubt, perhaps?) that crosses his face before his expression hardens once more. The anger fades from your system as fast as it comes, leaving you emotionless and with a sickening lurch in your gut.

“You speak boldly,” he says at last, his tone like ice. “But words alone will not earn my trust. Actions will.”

You exhale sharply, leaning back against the cold stone wall of your cell. “Fine,” you mutter, though the bitterness in your tone is impossible to mask. “Then watch closely, Oakenshield . I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to judge my actions soon enough.”

He falls silent after that, perhaps having exhausted himself with a fight as petty as this. You can’t tell whether to take this as a win or loss on your end, fighting back yet another round of tears that threaten to spill. 

Exhaustion eats away at you. You’re tired of trying to tiptoe the line of survival, barely avoiding death. Yet, even though you weren’t exactly the most welcoming of people to him, you still need their help to escape in the end.

With that thought, you fall back into silence, staring at the wall aimlessly while the murmurs of the rest around you resume. 

— — — — — — 

It’s around a few hours later when everyone else is asleep, a shadow outside your door drawing your attention. Shifting your position, you tilt your head to see Tauriel in front of Kili’s cell.

“The stone in your hand, what is it?” Her voice is gentle, tinged with curiosity.

Oh no , you suppress another annoyed groan, it’s time. Kill me now . Why couldn’t they just let you be depressed in peace?

Kili speaks, his voice low. “It is a talisman; a powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone, they will be forever cursed…”

You stifle a laugh behind your hands, the absurdity bubbling up. Sure, bro. Who wouldn’t want that as an opening line to flirt? You can’t help but smirk at the irritated frown Tauriel sends your way, almost making your laughter spill over.

Tauriel’s sharp gaze locks onto Kili, and you can’t help but press your lips together in an attempt to hide the ball of cringe in your chest at what you can sense coming next. “Or not... depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing. It’s just a token — a rune stone. My mother gave it to me so I would remember my promise.”

“What promise?” Tauriel asks, her interest piqued.

You can practically hear Kili’s casual shrug. “That I would come back to her. She worries; she thinks I’m reckless.”

“Are you?” Tauriel presses, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Nah—” His voice carries a playful lilt as he flips the rune stone lightly in the air, but you hear the slight thud as it skids across the floor, almost tumbling into a dark chasm. You suck in a sharp breath, half-expecting it to disappear forever. But Tauriel, quick as lightning, stops it, glancing at it briefly before handing it back to him.

“Sounds like quite a party you’re having up there.”

“It is Mereth e-nGilith — the Feast of Starlight,” Tauriel replies, her voice softening.

She hesitates, her gaze lingering on Kili. “All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars.”

Killmenowkillmenowkillmenow-

You can hear Kili’s dismissive tone. “I’ve always thought it’s a cold light, remote and far away.”

Please. PLEASE. End me now.

It takes every ounce of strength not to gag. The cringeworthy flirtation unfolding just inches away makes you want to groan, but you know better than to draw attention. So, instead, you sit there, jaw clenched, enduring secondhand embarrassment that feels like it could kill you.

You try to tune them out, focusing on the tray of food that must’ve been placed by the corner of your door by the guard while you were dozing off. Their idea of “dinner” is bleak as ever: coarse bread, a few sad bits of carrot and something that might be green. You break the bread into pieces, hoping that taking it slow will make it somehow taste better.

A bite, a chew, a sip of water. This routine feels like a punishment, but it’s better than starving. You tear off another bit of bread, staring down at it with a sigh. What I wouldn’t give for grilled meat right now. Thanks to the elves and their “nature-loving, we-love-veggies” diet, you'd lost weight, replaced by some muscle from the exercising you'd done.

But then, in a hushed, dreamy voice, Kili says, “I saw a fire-moon once.”

And just like that, the crumb of bread lodges in your throat. Your hand flies to your mouth as you cough — loudly. So much for staying quiet. You thump yourself on the chest, trying to calm the wheezing fit, which only draws an annoyed look in your direction.

Desperation fills you the more you cough, spluttering through watery eyes as you try to dislodge the bread. “Are you alright?” You can barely process Kili’s concerned words, tinged with mild embarrassment when he realises that you’ve probably been listening in on their conversation while everyone else is asleep.

Screw his embarrassment, you’ve probably just ruined the whole romantic bit they had going on.

As your wheezing gets louder, you remember a trick you'd seen once from the instructor of your first-aid course. It’d been a mandatory class when you worked as a lifeguard at the public swimming pool, and the instructor was pretty chill.

Now that you think about it, you clearly recall choking on something as well before he helped, and taught you the self-Heimlich. You ball one hand into a fist like he’d shown you, place it just above your navel, and thrust it sharply upward, hoping that it works as well as they say.

Nothing. Your eyes are watering, your chest feels like it's on fire, and that stupid crumb is still lodged in your throat. Great. Truly amazing. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Tauriel watching, arms folded, face as blank as ever. She looks like she’s observing a particularly unremarkable bug flailing on its back.

“Oh, you — absolute menace ,” you choke out in a strangled gasp, more annoyed than desperate now. You always knew she wasn’t your biggest fan, but really? Letting you choke to death over here? You brace yourself, trying again; one last, undignified shove to your diaphragm.

With a spectacular sputter, the offending crumb finally flies out. You slump back down, chest heaving as you pant from the near-death experience you’ve just had. Surprisingly enough, you never thought you’d almost perish this way.

Beheaded? Yes. Speared? Possibly. Choke to death on stale bread? Never crossed your mind.

Kili’s voice drifts from his cell, tinged with genuine concern, "Are you alright?" You manage a weak grunt, swallowing what’s left of your dignity along with the reminder that your interference might come with unexpected consequences.

Tauriel turns and leaves without another word. Glaring at her retreating back, you point your middle finger at her, jabbing it at the air like a madman. A broken laugh falls from your lips when you realise what you’re doing, blinking away the tears that involuntarily form. 

Kili’s voice drifts out again, and there’s a nervous, almost embarrassed edge to it now. “I’m glad you’re alright.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh but is also genuinely worried, caught somewhere between sympathy and the awkwardness of knowing you were listening in on his whole starlit, heartwarming moment.

You throw him a thumbs-up you know full well he can’t see, still catching your breath. “Nothing a little willpower couldn’t fix,” you mutter, though you can practically feel his grin through the walls.

“Glad to hear,” he says, then, in a lower, almost conspiratorial tone, “Not the most graceful moment, but I won’t tell.”

You manage a half-smile he can’t see, and he chuckles softly, his laughter almost warm enough to take the edge off Tauriel’s cold indifference. 

 — — — — — —

It’s been close to a week since the dwarves were imprisoned, and you’d taken to playing a little game with Bofur dubbed as Pass thy Rock. Pure boredom had gotten the better of you, having carelessly fiddled with a stray pebble in your cell.

Bofur had gestured to you to throw it to him, and thus began a rallying of rock tossing you play with Balin, Bofur, and even the brothers that neighbour you. Balin had tried to get Thorin to join, but he simply ignored him.

He’s always either pacing the floor or brooding quietly, with the occasional slamming of his cell door as he demands for an audience with Thranduil. The elf king never granted his request, and ever since that day when you told the guard to pass on the message, he didn’t call on you either. 

You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or fearful of that.

“Don’t drop it too soon,” Fili chuckles, catching the pebble Balin tossed his way. He hands it to you with a grin, the smooth stone cool in your palm as you give it a thoughtful turn. It’s strange to think you’re really here, part of a story you once read about.

“It’s weird,” you find yourself saying, words slipping out before you can stop them, “I never really understood why people liked you all so much...until now.”

Balin hums, amused. “People, you say?”

“I didn’t realise we were that well known across Middle-earth,” Bofur adds with a chuckle.

You force a small smile, masking a pang of uncertainty. If only you could ask Gandalf for advice. Maybe he’d know of a way to get you home. But for now, it’s a waiting game, and with these dwarves for company, a part of you feels...oddly content.

“Guess you’re more famous than you thought,” you say, flicking the stone back to Balin with a smirk. So far, the only ones who know what you look like are the three opposite you, and truthfully? They’re much taller than you expected. Or maybe you’re just short. 

Balin catches it with a shake of his head, tossing it to Kili’s cell. You’re waiting for the pebble to be tossed once more, only to hear it clatter to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet cell. A sharp hiss of pain echoes, and judging by the look on Balin’s face, it’s not hard to piece together what’s happened. 

“ Shit , are you okay?” You curse, fingers gripping the cell door tightly. Worry fills you, an unexpected consequence of the silly game you’d come up with. With the additional fact that you’ve no idea when they actually make their escape, panic flits through your body at the possibility it could be at any minute, even now.

“I’m fine.” His breathy chuckle does nothing to shake off the unease that gnaws at your gut. Relief is fleeting, and it dawns on you that this isn’t a world where doctors are aplenty, nor medicine or basic hygiene. 

“Give me your hand.” 

You can sense his amusement even through the bars. “How, exactly? We aren’t really in a position where I can do so.”

“Just — stick it out or something,” you say, exasperated. He must realise you’re not joking, because he dutifully follows your instructions. His arm stretches out past the gap in the cell door bars, the closest one to you.

You observe the grime beneath his nails and the faint tremor in his fingers, along with the multiple scars on his arm. “You really need to clean up,” you mutter, sarcasm still pulling through even in this situation.

“I could with your help.” His teasing draws out a sarcastic laugh from you. “But it’s really nothing. I’ve gone through worse.”

“He’s right, we’ve all got the scars to show for it,” Fili calls out. Thorin eyes Kili with concern, though he chooses to simply observe.

You reach out cautiously, your fingers brushing against his as you inspect the makeshift bandage he’s tied in a loose knot. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself properly,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. 

He flinches at your touch, only to allow you to continue. “Your first aid is horrible,” you remark, sitting down and pulling away from him. His arm remains there for a moment, before withdrawing back into his cell. 

“Here, since we can’t see each other, follow what Balin does.” The dwarf mentioned tilts his head in intrigue, inching closer to the cell door. “Grab a piece of cloth, or find one that’s relatively clean. It can be from your shirt or something.”

A loud rip echoes through the dungeon, and you guess he’s already found one. “Alright, focus,” you say, starting to slowly show Balin your movements so he can mirror it back to Kili. “Once you’ve got your cloth, wrap it around the wound. Make sure it’s snug, but not too tight— you want to stop the bleeding without cutting off circulation.”

“Got it,” Kili replies, his tone serious now as he carefully follows your instructions. “What’s next?”

“Now, start by layering the cloth over the wound, but don’t just go in circles. You want to cover it from the centre outwards. Think of it like a spiral, but keep it neat,” you instruct, trying to visualise the process in your mind as you speak. “If you have any leftover fabric, you can use it to tie off the bandage.”

“Leftover fabric? You mean, like the remnants of my shirt?” Kili quips, though you can hear the focus in his voice.

“Whatever works for you bro,” you shrug. “I'm not gonna be the one with the potential infection.”

“After you’ve wrapped it, make a knot to secure it, but not so tight that it restricts your movement. You don’t want to lose feeling in your hand,” you add. “And if you can, check to see if it’s bleeding through. If it is, you’ll need to add another layer on top, but don’t remove the first one.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on it,” Kili assures you, his voice steady despite the pain he’s likely enduring. “I’m tying it off now… it’s a bit tricky.”

“Being injured tends to do that to you.” That draws chuckles from the dwarves around. “Show me what it looks like now so I can check.”

He sticks his hand out once more, the makeshift bandage tied almost perfectly according to your instructions. “That’s…not bad.” You raise your brows, genuinely impressed. 

He wiggles his fingers as if to show off. “Comes with the territory. Handling weapons all my life, after all. Bandaging? Piece of cake.”

Fili pipes up from the other side, snickering, “He’s more used to wrapping himself around trouble, to be fair.”

The cell falls silent again as your thoughts spiral inward, a wave of fear creeping in. The earlier laughs fade, leaving only the loud reminder of your isolation here. The foreignness, the absence of anyone from your world, from home. Your fingers start picking at the skin around your nails, words slipping out before you even realise. 

“What if they don’t remember me?”

It’s muttered more to yourself than to anyone else. The vulnerability in your voice draws the attention of the dwarves, especially Thorin, whose eyes narrow slightly.

Fili speaks first. “Who? Your people?” Raising your gaze, you stare at the wall bordering his. 

Great. Talking to dwarves as makeshift therapists now? Rock bottom, here I come.

“I don’t even know if I have anyone looking for me. I just... I don’t belong here.” The weight of your words hangs in the air, and you can feel the dwarves' gazes on you. It feels understanding, but a certain wariness remains.

Balin’s voice breaks the tension, kind and encouraging. “If the opportunity comes, lass, we’ll help you escape alongside us. No need to fret on that.”

You try to give him a smile in return, but Thorin’s scoff from his cell wipes it right off your face. He shifts, arms crossing over his chest as he sizes you up with a disdainful look. “She’ll only slow us down. A human female, no less. She wouldn’t last a day on our journey, with no weapon, no training, and no resilience to speak of. We’ve got more than enough to deal with without—”

That bastard.

A hot rush of anger flares up, the thinned frays of patience for all the treatment you've endured here finally snapping. “Oh, don’t worry,” you snap, tone dripping with sarcasm. “I wouldn’t want to drag you all down.” 

His condescension feels like a weight, pressing against you until the words spill out before you can stop them. “Besides, if I wanted to survive, I’d have just stuck with Bilbo. He practically saved your asses from being roasted on a spit by those trolls. You’d have been—”

A cold, shocked silence follows. Your mind stalls as you realise you’ve said it — let out a detail so specific that the absurdity of it sinks in, even for you.

Thorin’s eyes narrow, his piercing gaze fixed on you with a new sharpness that unsettles you to your bones. “And how, exactly,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “would you know of that?”

There’s an intensity in his stare now that makes your pulse skip. Every dwarf in the dungeon has gone quiet, their eyes turning between you and Thorin. Balin’s thoughtful gaze seems to scrutinise you even deeper than his.

Cheeks burning, you swallow hard, the weight of what you’ve said bearing down. Excuses pile up in your throat but stick there, choking you. You could say it was a guess, a wild shot in the dark, but something about Thorin’s intense stare tells you he won’t be easily convinced. 

Balin clears his throat, an attempt to ease the tension. “Perhaps it’s mere coincidence, Thorin. Maybe she simply overheard tales from…from somewhere. These stories travel quickly among folk these days, I’d wager.”

But Thorin’s focus is relentless, his gaze never shifting from you. “Not tales this specific,” he says slowly, his voice growing colder with each word. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

The irritation from earlier has drained, leaving only a quiet dread. You drop your gaze, picking at the edge of the cell bars as though they hold answers. “Maybe I do,” you mutter, your voice softer but just as defiant. “Maybe I know plenty about what you’re up against. Maybe I know things that would make your head spin.”

The challenge in your tone has clearly gotten under his skin. He takes a step closer to his own cell bars, fingers curling around the metal as he watches you with a dark, unreadable expression. “Then speak plainly. What are you hiding? And why?”

Your hand grips the bar tighter, as if that might ground you. “Why should I?” you say, your tone icy. “The last thing I need is to be explaining myself to someone who’d sooner leave me behind than listen.”

A flicker of something unreadable crosses Thorin’s face. Maybe surprise, maybe irritation. But before he can respond, Balin interrupts, a careful look in his eye. “Lass,” he begins gently, his voice coaxing, “if there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us, know that we mean you no harm. But it’s only fair we know what we’re dealing with, for all our sakes.”

You breathe out slowly, watching their faces — some concerned, some suspicious. Thorin, though, is guarded, like he’s ready to block out whatever you might say next, no matter what it is.

So you smile. A faint, tired one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m not your enemy, Balin. If that’s what you’re wondering. I…don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

Kili speaks up, the curiosity in his voice soft but evident. “So… you’re on our side?”

You pause, your eyes flicking to the floor outside his cell. “I never said that either.”

 — — — — — —

Taglist: @chennqingg <3

[orionsangel86]

Somewhere Michael Sheen is watching the latest episodes of OFMD and taking notes lmao

[tonycries]

BUTTER

Synopsis. First time cúmming inside = first time losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, breéding, cúmplay, men whímpering, virgínity loss (Choso), overstím, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, GOJO’S POWERS, proposals, full nélson, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, p slápping, p talking, limitless, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Earned it.

“I-is she really tellin’ me to hah- f-fill her up inside, doll?” Toji breathes, dazed eyes locked down at your stuffed entrance. And he can barely focus his gaze - barely even try to sound like himself right now. “I-is this real?”

Ragged rasps just about half as ruined as he feels, lilting up in pitch. In strain. Sharp intakes of breath becoming so labored when his entire hulking body wracks with a heaving shiver. 

And Toji’s scrambling his thick fingers to latch roughly onto your face, your waist - anywhere and everywhere that might help him keep an ounce of his sanity.

But it was too late.

“Heh, did I hngh- fuck the rationality outta ya? You really want me t-to-” Head throwing back, he can’t even think of finishing his sentence. Of doing anything other than curling one set of fingers around your throat. Biceps flexing when he shoves you even harder onto all fours on the silken sheets, he cranes over to place a line of pretty pecks down your teary cheeks, panting, “Well…wh-whatever my girl wants- she gets, right?”

And he meant it.

Oh, he couldn’t even believe it. Toji had your pretty pussy overfilled with all of his thick, thorough inches - slamming his hips drunkenly against yours when you’d babbled to cum inside. Fuck, it’s so real.

And that’s all it takes for him to clamor up one of his staggeringly muscular thighs up onto the plushy bed. To messily slip and slide across the saturated puddle of your sweet, sweet dripping juices and press his foot down shamelessly on your head. Like he couldn’t get enough.

The new angle nestles his hefty cock disruptively, dredges of his sweltering hot precum splat! against every inch of your clingy cunt.

“Oh yeah- th-this is the stuff.” His dark, dewy eyes veer to the very back of his head, hissing when his achy cock expands open your gummy walls. Throbbing head swelling plumper to curve even deeper, “Let me- l-let me hear ya, ma-”

Your trembly fingers rake a reddened line down his calf. Gasping for air at the way the rotund end of his angry, strawberry-pink tip kisses against your g-spot so snugly. “W-wan’ it so badly- please.”

“Want what?” Toji’s teasing tone rumbles from behind, and he’s gyrating his hips ever-so-slightly slower. Making sure to draw out those wet, translucent glides down your tight channel, “Can’t- can’t hear you-”

Honestly, he had absolutely no idea whether it was because of your honeyed tone breaking out into the cutest of whimpers, or because Toji’s ears were popping. Swatting a wet smack! at your beading clit to get you to yelp, his drawling mouth moves all by itself. “Already asked- t-tell me now unless ya want me to cum outside-”

“No! No no no-” And that was all the threat it took to have you careening unsteadily onto your elbows, fully forgetting the mean restraint of Toji’s foot on top of you. “Please- need you to cum inside please-”

“Louder.”

You’re sneakily shivering your hips down every one of his rummaging inches. “Toji-”

“Ohhhh- my bad.” With a slight snicker, his tongue glissades a wet gloss down the very edges of his scar. Leaving rounded circular bruises at your bobbing throat just how harshly Toji was jostling you with the vice-like embrace, and you can only manage out a few sniffles when he drags by one strong arm to crash the recoil into his ruthless hips. Dangerously stopping you in your tracks. Humming, “Stop fuckin’ running, I w-was talkin’ to ya pretty pussy.”

Your bleary eyes snap open, “What–”

“Shhh, doll- stop whining so much–” he’s cooing in a syrupy slow cadence. “Jus’ needa- needa hear it from her.”

Slapping down his leaky cockhead along your sloppy hole every few strokes, having you drooling a glossy sheen down his thick shaft like you were painting him. So much of it that the dripping wet noises were resounding in Toji’s ears, dancing around his melty mind like his new favorite song. 

Oh, he loved to hear it. Over and over and-

“S-so soaked.” he’s groaning out like a mantra, darkened eyes grifting together. Mouth can all but lift his drunken maw slack open at every tightening clamp of your syrupy pussy, “You want me to cum inside this badly, doll?” 

And you feel your puffed-up pussy lips get even more soaked at the utter pussydrunk look on Toji’s usually smug-features. “Because I’ve been thinking about this e-ever since the day I met ya-” He’s craning over - hunching, more like.  Baring you with his most crazed gaze, “To breed ya- to fill you up ‘ntil you think you’re gonna hah burst. To make ya a pretty momma so-” Back muscles flexing, abs aching with fatigue, lips dragging a sopping wet kiss. “-please let me cum inside.”

Ah, who was Toji Fushiguro against you?

Because as soon as your head even dares to move within the inch of that half-delirious nod you send his way, Toji’s sopping your insides sloshing wet with his cum. For the first time. In awe. Load after load being fucked up into you - white flashes behind your eyes when you feel it knock against your womb, trickling down over your cervix.

And there’s so much of it.

“Gonna have yer g-gorgeous eyes-” he slurs, crushing you with his full body weight. “-n’ your smile fuck- my love for ya-” It won’t’ stop - Toji can’t stop, can’t reel back the weepy curving divot of his head. “M’thinking four- no- five.” Still oozing out a milky gloss even when he’s dragging his fat cock out of your hole. 

Still cumming. Smearing every nook and cranny of the sheet below white as he flips you around and plants a sudden smack! on your overspilling pussy, gushing out obscenely when Toji’s urgently bringing his face down, down, down.

“Oh. Fuckin’ delicious.” His eyes droop half-lidded at the heavenly sight - shit, he could get used to this. Mouth watering, his feverish breath wafts all over your sensitive pussy. “I earned this, didn’t I, ma?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Happy wife, happy life

“Ken-”

“...”

“Ken.”

But oh, Nanami Kento can’t even hear his pretty wife right about now. Can’t do anything but shove his greedy tongue down the ends of your sopping wet slit, pooling your syrupy juices all the way down to his throat.

In fact, the only response you’re being gifted with is a furious pull on his dangling work tie - barely even bothering to change out of it - to be able to swipe his nose down more freely in a long kiss down your puffy clit. More, more, more-

Keening, your fingers tangle into Nanami’s blond strands - tugging, dragging, but shit, he couldn’t - wont. It hurt for him to even think of pulling away. Roughened palms scissor past your folds, and he pants, “P-please- fuck- just a bit- more-”

He was addicted. Gone. 

“B-but Ken-” Couldn’t register anything past the way your voice was dipping into a whiny territory right now that made him twitch dangerously. That is, until- “Wan’ to cum w-with you- to have you ah- cum inside-”

Oh.

If you thought that Nanami was drunk on you before then you were completely unprepared for the way that singular babbling plea make him still. 

It makes him gasp, honeyed eyes widening, feverish breaths spilling out in heaving puffs of condensation - once, twice. Before your back is suddenly slamming down on the counter, legs splayed out shamefully by Nanami’s sturdy forearms, and your cunt-

Fuck, in a few split-seconds, you were being stuffed so thoroughly open. Nanami’s reddish cockhead springing down to gift a wet thwack! thwack! thwack! on your puffed-up clit, he’s swiping down the ends of your drooling lips. 

“I-inside?” he breathes, a few octaves higher than usual.

You’re nodding, your fingers twirling around his haphazard tie. “Inside.”

“Anything…” Nanami breathes, and he sounds like he doesn’t even know that he’s saying the words. Barely ripping his gaze from you to scramble for your left hand - before placing a sweet, sweet peck on that cool wedding band on your ring finger. “Anything f-for you, my love.”

You’re almost crying at that ruthless stretch of his globular tip poking at your insides, he’s caving in a way open - and even after so many years, you’ve never gotten used to how staggeringly big Nanami’s girth was. How his curved divot was steaming out a thick wad of precum that already made you feel so full.

Now, you two had discussed kids - but never acted upon it like this. This needy. This frenzied-

“Wh-whatever you want, y’know-” He’s humming depravedly into your mouth like a mantra,  thumbing past your pouty lips to spit into your mouth. And that very sight of those translucent splatters makes his hips stutter mindlessly, “Anything for you- anything for the future momma of my kids-”

Shit, you throw your head back as soon as he’s grazing two digits down the very hood of your neglected clit - only for Nanami to jostle your head over his hands.

“C-careful-” he murmurs, hand dipping down to massage your neck. Your shoulders - all while his fat cock was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. “-don’t wan’ you to hurt your- hah-self, darling. S’not good f-for the-”

Baby.

Nanami doesn’t think he can even bear to say that simple word right about now. 

Risking losing whatever’s left of his sanity, he’s wrapping one beefy arm around your middle to crush your body to his. And before you know it, you’re being hastily jostled off of the counter and dangled midair - all while your gentle husband barely even breaks a sweat. Utilizing the lewd properties of gravity to let you bounce down onto his long length and back upwards. His voice cracks, “-baby.”

“Ah-” your trembly hands wrap their way around his neck, giving Nanami the perfect angle to pepper peck after sultry peck onto your bouncing tits. “D-don’t hah- drop me, Ken, m’kay?”

Drop you?

Drop you?

God, he lets out a slight chuckle at the very thought. Angling to rut his inches even deeper upwards, every tiny massage of your elastic walls around his painful cock makes Nanami nod. So fervently that stray strands stick to his prespired forehead. Such a pretty mess of your sensible husband. “Mhm- w-won’t drop you, I swear- I swear-”

Hips speeding up in such a sloppy way now, but even how you’re tightening his tie won’t make Nanami stop - slow down.

“Promise?”

Slowly, his dribbling cock gushes out even in even more velvety ribbons, you’re watching in such delirious awe at the way those delicate strings of slick and spit stretch all down his pinkish shaft. 

“Promise-” he groans, feeling light-headed. Heavy balls thwacking in a sticky staccato against your ass. Fingers gliding up, up, up to where he was nudging your sensitive g-spot, bruising out his circumference on all your sensitive areas. Kiss after French kiss into your gooey heaven. He presses down. “-gonna f-fill you up right here- won’t miss. Swear I won’t m-miss-”

And he doesn’t.

God, he grows sullenly quiet to hear all those delicious squelches the very moment Nanami’s steaming hot cum is spilling into you. Warming you from the very insides- and your own orgasm has you seeing stars. 

Sloshing around in his favorite little swivels, he can’t help but let his hips gyrate slowly to feel it coat a creamy gloss down his sensitive cock. To feel your tiny whimpers and whines when his seed dredges down your womb. Drip! drip! dripping onto the kitchen tile in an echoing splatter from your slobbery slit. 

You leave a wet peck at the ends of his curled lips, “W-wan’ keep it all inside, Ken- all of it-”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

“M’gonna marry you all over again- s-swear and- and…” And just then, he shudders so violently that you fear for a split-second, legs around his toned waist tightening. “-o-oh, my love- m’gonna cum again.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “U-use me.”

“I-I’m so close-”  Geto finds it in himself to grit his teeth, to force his jittery fingers up to pinch your plump clit. “-gonna cum- fuck, s-stop riding me, honey- unless ya want me to fill you up heh-”

It’s said so low and sultry and even through your hazy mind, you know that it’s a simple tease coming from your boyfriend. You know that he didn’t mean anything by it - but that certainly doesn’t stop the way that your hands grasp around his shoulders, knocking your heads into a messy French kiss. “But, I want you to, Sugu.”

Oh. 

Geto Suguru can’t hide the way his chest heaves with a choked-up moan, how his head throws to the very back of his silken pillowcases when his hips rut upwards into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he was out of control. Ears ringing with the words, it takes the cult leader below you every shred of will in his entire body to groan out, “D-don’t joke like that- fuck- gonna give me a heart attack, y’know-”

“M’not joking.”

Shit, his eyes widen. Straying down to where your puffy pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, swallowing up every greedy inch that you were being drilled with. Throat dry, every sound that comes out of him now is painfully raspy, “Y-you fuckin’ mean it? Better not be fuck- talking outta this naughty-” Swat! Coming down to kiss a punishing smack against the edges of your drooling cunt. “-pussy.”

You couldn’t fake the way that makes you glissadingingly drenched even if you wanted to. Nails raking down Geto’s curvaceous pecs to steady your stuttering hips, your bounces grow frantic. 

“Please- c-cum inside-” begging. Maybe you were cockdrunk already, pouting in a way that has his hefty, cum-filled balls squeezing. “Jus’ want you all inside-”

And when Geto thinks back to this situation, he doesn’t know how he was ever supposed to stand a chance. Because with a gasping ricochet of his fat, curved cock onto your most precious g-spot, he’s surging stringy wads of seeds that trickles down your inner thigh. Cumming and cumming so hard - it’s never felt this good - that he almost forgets it’s too early.

That is, until you’re gasping a soft “Baby, did you-”

“Sh-shut up-” And you swear your big, strong boyfriend whimpers. He’s furiously blinking away those glittery globular tears at the ends of his eyes. A tiny pout smeared across his rosy pink lips when you’re being flipped.

One hand around your throat, the other plugging back creamy dredge after dredge into your drooling cunt. Almost as if it was offensive to him to catch that syrupy drizzle, he’s making such a fucking mess. 

“Such a filthy girl- n’ a filthy cunt-” He sputters out, and Geto felt like he was burning a bright red blush all down his pretty features. Matching the angry way your hips were being slammed into his, “Think you s-sooo fuckin’ fuck- fuck fuck fuck-”

And shit, he can’t even finish his sentence before those moans are petering out into speechlessness. A singular tight squeeze of your gummy walls encircles his hot girth. And it’s enough to make him whine, “Please- fuck, how are you doing this-”

Sounding so genuinely in disbelief, you watch as Geto’s mouth drops lewdly at the way every pearlescent bead of his cum was directed towards your cunt. Seeping out through the edges of your sopping lips.

You’re giggling in a drunken way that makes him flinch, “S-something wrong, Sugu?”

“Don’t-” he bares you with a feral grin. Heavy limbs throwing apart your limp legs to jostle his hips into you even harder, and it’s like Geto was spearheading into your lungs. Swiping up translucent wet splatters of his fat head in delicious drags down your spongy cervix. Hissing that even the slightest bit of recoil had him parting from the melty depths of your pussy. “-don’t call m that ‘nless you want me to- oh-” His dewy eyes roll to the back of his head, leaving another unapologetic smack! on your peaked clit. “-t-too late. M’gonna cum- fuck fuck fuck- n’ s’all your fault-”

“Awww–” Teasingly, your fingers drag through his long curtain of hair, scratching lightly at Geto’s scalp in a way that makes him purr. “-how can I hah- make it up to you, Sugu?”

The only thing he wanted right now was to cum inside you again. Once more. Twice. Thrice. Again and again and-

“Use me-” Geto gasps, and he’s careening his head down for what you assumed would be one of his favorite messy kisses - only to wrap those pinkish lips around your tongue and suck. “Use me use me- ohh please, use me- honey- make me a daddy. D-don’t even care anymore-”

And when he cums, Geto’s filling your already sloshingly drenched cunt with heavy loads of his seed. Sticky and honeyed enough that it’s next to impossible for him to pull out and sheath his rock-hard dick unforgivingly into your pussy. 

One of the biggest threats to jujutsu society - whimpering when he spews out a stream of wet swears into your open-mouth, shivering at every one of your milking clamps to drag out something delicious from him. 

He’s curling his hulking body into yours, dripping fingers glistening all the way down to Geto’s wrist with just how much of his loads he’d shoveled all the way back inside your cunt. Giving your sloppy hole a languid circle around the diameter with his slender fingers, before popping them into his mouth. 

And Geto can only see stars behind his eyes, he can only moan at the taste, “I think…” Peaking out a hazy eye at your squirming figure - where the hell did you think you were going? He’s hypnotized, dragging you back into his clutches with a hand curled prettily around your throat. “-that w-we’re not done until m’cumming b-blanks, honey.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marry you…

One swipe - just one swipe of Choso’s fattened, blushing red tip down your slit is all that it takes for his stupidly pussydrunken eyes to run to the back of his head. For his drooling mouth to slack open with all the utter need of a virgin, “Please-”

You’re humming through your moans, arching your body just right for him to feed you more and more of his half-flaccid inches. “Tell me what you want, baby-”

Fuck, he’s winking open his eyes to peer down at you. Hands traveling their way to roughly jostle your pliant body into one of the meanest mating presses you’d never thought your dear inexperienced best friend possible.

“N-noo–” Choso’s whining, pressing wet pecks down your lips. “Don’t call me that, baby- or else m’gonna…”

Choso’s handsome cheeks burn a shameful red when his eyes drift down to the gooey splatters of cum smeared along your stomach from not too long ago. Just the prospect of being able to put it in too much for his fried brain to handle.

And you’re finding your fingers darting across the glossy sheen sticking to your skin, bringing those drippingly wet digits up, up, up for Choso to gladly wrap his lips around. Sucking. 

“But I want you to, Cho–” Watching as his eyes widen, mouth dropping into a soft oh! Your voice drops into such a hum that makes his swollen tip twitch startlingly. “Want you to c-cum inside m-”

Shit, he doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence - and he doesn’t want to. 

Not unless Choso wants to make an even bigger fool of himself in front of his pretty best friend that oh-so-kindly suggested taking away his virginity. Not like there’s anyone else he’d even dream of giving it to.

Thick, sculpted thigh hiking up, he’s slamming his hefty cockhead down until your swollen folds were kissing up in a sweet, sweet pucker against his thick hilt. Grinding in slow, sultry gyrations upwards like he still wanted to stuff you with more, more, more- 

“I-I can can cum inside?” Forehead beading with sweat, lower lip wobbling with the sheer effort that it took to merely hold back the way that his achingly hard cock was straining for release once more. Hissing at the almost sizzling drag of precum down your bulging g-spot. “For my first time? Inside? R-really inside?”

And despite the way that he was so patiently waiting for your answer, Choso couldn’t help the way the greedy curve of his thumb swipes down your peaked clit. Rolling in lazy circles - low, and slow to make your gummy walls clench in that particular way he’s slowly gotten addicted to. 

You’re nodding with a smug smile at how pretty he looked all fucked-out like this. Darkened eyes all droopy and half-lidded like he was blinking through syrup, muscles twitching mouth-wateringly, hair browner than usual with his sweat-dampened streaks. You can’t help but wring your fingers through his locks and tug, in a way that makes him hiss. In a way that makes him gasp. 

In a way that has him spurting out a thicker stream of precum into your gooey cunt - close. So close. “Mhm– let it a-all out inside, baby.”

Oh god, and then he does-

He does and Choso’s sure he sees the pearly gates of heaven right then and there, and he knows you’re his very own angel.

“Move your pretty fingers, baby– I wan’ you to t-take it all-” It’s not even mean the way he swats away one of your hands subconsciously cupping your split pussy - it’s just desperate. So that he can place pound after filthy pound to fuck you into the soaked sheets. 

Whining out, “Yeah please- fuck-”  Snapping his flexible body down until you were folded helplessly in half, every languid second is spent with such velvety ropes of cum being stuffed down to the bottom of your pussy. “Wan’ this forever- forever please-” Thick, stringy wads that stick and slide down your walls - that overspills when it’s too much for your snug channel to take. “W-want this…”

And just one look of his greedy gazy downwards And Choso’s gasping like he couldn’t even believe he could cum this much - couldn’t even believe he could stop at this point.

“Marry me-” he’s sputtering, eyes clearer with the sudden idea. As if he’s imagining it already. Hips shifting to lazy down his sloppy staccato into something more thorough. “B-be my wife- have my kids- please-” Something that has your toes curling with pleasure, branding every ridge and thumping vein down his shaft into your walls contorting around him. Hiccuping - little sobs curling at the back of his throat, “Please- please I need you to marry me-” 

It’s overspilling - adding to that little milky pool from below. He’s barely even thinking before swiping a hand through some of those creamy remnants of cum. Sucking. Taking your own - popping that ring finger of yours into his mouth.

Drool drips down the side of his sodden lips, moving to mewl softly. “D-did that really just happen?”

The words come out nothing but a whisper, strangled and strained from the very depths of his rumbling chest. And Choso’s peering down at you like you were everything - his softening cock sending sparks down his spine with every slight rub down your sopping wet folds. 

“Mhm–” your hands make their way down his pecs, rubbing over pert, pink nipples. Something that makes him let out a low shudder, reddened divot bursting in a few more wispy strings of seed. “N’ you did so hngh- good, Cho.”

“D-did I? Was I your oh- good boy?” he stutters, before letting out a keening pout. “B-but I need to have you cum, too, baby- need to have you cum-” And you’re so at his ravenous mercy when Choso swipes a wet thumb over and over down your throbbing clit. “-and then- then can we get married?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MESS!

“What the fuck-” The king of curses breathes - he heaves - like never before, even in that human form of his right now. “Wh-what the fuck have you done to me, woman-”

And all the foes in the world had nothing against your honeyed whines. Absolutely no match for the way your elastic walls were clinging around his throbbing cock so tight. No match for your cockdrunk babbling that drove him insane.

“Such a filthy mouth you h-have-” he groans, leering over his inhumanly powerful body to bend over yours. You’re gaping when one of his big, beefy arms jostle you upwards into a headlock. Even shapeshifted from his true form, he was still so strong. Spitting, “Do you dare to- fuck- move those pretty lips of yours n’ repeat those words back to me, brat.”

As if you could do anything else. 

“I-I said-” you’re choking out, panting in feverish gasps of the heady air. “-said I want you to c-cum inside-”

Oh. 

In a split-second, you’re feeling your tautly stretched walls expand to limits you weren’t even sure were possible. The very bottom of your pussy being ravaged with two circular brandings - two. Two matching rock-hard cocks jostling around you. 

And the stretch of Sukuna’s devilishly true form opening your cunt to its very limits is so maddening that it takes you a second to realize that the rest of him had shapeshifted, too. 

Suddenly bigger, suddenly more towering, suddenly the king of curses. 

His strong forearm curls even tighter around your throat, knocking the remaining gasps out of your lungs. “Seriously? L-look where talking outta ya slutty pussy hah- got me-” Sukuna chuckles. Deep and rumbling from his bulging pecs, “-c-can’t even hold a n-normal form- you made me do this- fuck-”

He was fucking you like it was your fault.

Solid inches upon inches that were bruising. And if you thought that Sukuna’s size was staggering in whatever human form he’d conjured up for the safety of your poor pussy - it was absolutely incredible with both his twin girthy cocks. Bigger, thicker. The slightest ruts and grinds into your gushing cunt having him knocking into your lungs, painting down a hefty load of steamy precum. 

Messy.

“Messy-” you hear a primal rumble from above you. Shit, did you say that out loud? Condensed breath heady and hot against your ear, “Heheh- you think this is m-messy, lil’ human? Wait until I-I- hah-”

“Y-you’re really gonna cum inside, Kuna?” you’re batting your teary lashes up at your king, a delirious smile smearing itself all over your face. 

Wobbling when his snapping hips purposefully slow down to mere gyrating squelches, every push and pull feeding your slobbery pussy languidly. You have him hypnotized, maw slacking open with every lazy drag of his heavy cocks back and forth back and forth back and- “Mhm- gonna fill ya up. Breed ya u-until you’re begging that ya can’t take it. Until y-you’re all round n’ glowing with my heirs.”

God. He was out of control.

“I-I can take it-” Your nails rake airily down his ever-tightening forearm - nothing but mere kitten scratches to Sukuna. “Promise Kuna- I can-”

“Tch- this damn naughty m-mouth of yours.” he smirks in a sleazy way - just about all that Sukuna can do to not let his voice break out in whimpers right now. All he can do to hold back his building high, curvaceous tips of his thickened cocks spazzing out tight, voluminous globs of wispy white. He’s covering your prattling mouth with one hand, “Take it then- take it- but ya better make an equal mess f’me. Heh-”

Even through your bleary mind, you already knew what he wanted - to have you squirt all down Sukuna’s weepy cocks. To make a mess. 

Always his favorite.

“Th-think ya can do that?” He snarls down at you, twiddling a few sopping wet digits to toy with your pulsing clit. Third and fourth arms snaking around your waist to keep from your pathetic scrambling. To stop your escape when his hips jackhammer away harder. “Can you- my queen?”

Oh, he cuts himself off with a whimper.

Because all of a sudden your gushing cunt is surging out in waves of translucent slick. It sticks to his rubbing cocks - and all the way to his washboard abs -like a gloss, stars behind your eyes when Sukuna’s fucking you through your high. Praises slipping out in a way that would’ve tarnished the king’s reputation if anyone found out.

But right now, he didn’t care. 

Not when he’s all but bursting from his bawling tips - such thick rivers of cum that knock mercilessly into your gummy spots. The force of both his fat heads streaming out relentlessly is enough to leave your forbidden sweet spots all bruised and battered. 

Inflating your snug channel until Sukuna only had to slide a hand down to about halfway down your abdomen, pressing down at that nudge. “Heh, s’right at h-home-” 

And now that he’s filled your pretty pussy with seed, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t think it’s possible to cum anywhere else. With a shuddering hiss, he’s dragging his cocks out, spying down with hooded eyes at the way your sloppy entrance was molding and constrictign around him - like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

But Sukuna had other plans - plans that included letting his second tongue loll out, rough tastebuds sweeping a long lick down your leaky slit. Creamy cum trickling down the pinkish muscle, and he could feel his mouth grinning. Something he’s been wanting to do since he moment he fucking saw you.

“H-hey-” you’re turning your head to huff back at him. 

Smack!

“Ahh, stop yer whining-” Sukuna’s smoothing one hand down over the raised bumps of all five digits on your ass, another one of his hands guiding his fat bases to drive up your sopping crease. Pooling the milky remnants on his rotund tips. “-because m’not done breeding this cunt properly yet, my queen.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Limit(less)

“This time-” Gojo’s heaving out a dragging shudder, his face burying hotly within the tender crook of your neck. Spitting - panting, “This time this time- this- time-”

Oh, it’s been just about the same thing that he’s been babbling for the past few hours now. All that he can utter after so long of his sensitively overworked cock stuffing in and out over your overspilling cunt, flickers of jujutsu bolting with every sodden drag down your melty walls.

Truly, the strongest didn’t expect to be addicted the first time he filled your drooling pussy with thick globs of his seed - it was an accident, the first trial of trying to use limitless for its…unintended purposes. 

But right now, Gojo had absolutely no clue if this was the nth trial or whether he was simply addicted to breeding your pretty cunt.

“T-Toru–” Your fingers scramble backwards to bury in his snow locks - difficult, with the way that your boyfriend was wrangling you into a tight full nelson. Feeling the push and pull of thick cursed technique in the air - inside you. “-s’not gonna work.”

God, just the sear of your grip on his scalp is enough to have Gojo’s hips rutting up in a perfect curve off the plush king-size mattress. Fucking up into your cunt so thoroughly that you gasp at the syrupy slosh of his cum from before inside you. 

His hiccups, voice cracking into a whine at the very end. “D-do you hate me, sweetheart?”

“No?” you’re breathing out in exasperation. But shit, you underestimate just how crazed this tiniest sentiment would drive him, choking back a strangled cry of your name when he’s sending a buzzing smack! down to the hood of your plump cunt. “Fuck- why would you think-”

“Th-then let me use limitless as a- hah- condom, pretty girl-” he’s whining. And you jolt at the wet splatters of a few stimulated, pearlescent tears slipping their way out of Gojo’s eyes. “It’ll work- this time- m’the strongest- s’gonna hah- w-work- a-and if not m’jus’ breedin’ my girl’s cute cunt, r-right?”

But even as he’s prattling on and on about this, you’re feeling the flickering falter of jujutsu around Gojo’s hefty girth. Molding your gummy walls taut around his fat circumference, your spine arches with electricity. 

“Heheh-” Goosebumps prickle down your spine at the high, humorless bout of laughter at your ear - and you crane your head to look at Gojo. Sure that he’s lost it. Already wondering just how high the kill count would be. “-didn’t think th-this pretty pussy of yours would have me so ruined, sweetheart.”

And truly - he sounded like it. 

He looked like it, with his rosy lips ajar, those cerulean eyes watery and half-lidded. Glowing with power and tiny shivers of lighting at every sodden kiss to the bullseye of your g-spot. Clashing over and over in a wet push and pull, Gojo thinks that he could almost feel the rotund indentations of his curved tip right on your sweetest spots. 

“Looks like y-you’re the one ruining me- Toru-” you whine. “Just look-”

Drunkenly, Gojo’s lolling his head to the sound of your voice. Not even looking, barely even thinking - that is, until he sees.

And Gojo can’t help but let out a slew of honeyed, pathetically cracking profanities at the heavenly sight below. Pale forearms stretching out your trembly thighs even more shamefully wide to get an even closer look. 

Of your quivering hole winking up at him glisteningly, coating his fat hilt a creamy ring of white from so many of his failed attempts. Your saturatedly wet pussy lips were practically gulping up all of his heavy inches, slobbering a slow trail of drool down the side of his strawberry pink shaft and onto his twitchy balls. Needy. 

And if Gojo’s limitless protection was unsteady before then-

“Shit-” Gojo takes in a shuddering gasp, slender digits falling down to plant a wet smack! on the very middle of your bulging slit - as if all of this was your fault. “Shit shit shit shit- I-I can’t- oh-” Sharp canines sinking down so hard into your skin that you think he might break through. Just about all that’s keeping Gojo tethered to reality when his limitless shatters. “Oh god. Th-think s’gonna be another b-baby…”

All the way into a zillion pieces of nothingness and-

And then he’s cumming. 

Cumming so hard that the dim lamps by the side of your bed flickers. Then explodes. 

Pouring out such steaming hot piles of his cum - once. Twice. Before his swollen, overwhelmed balls are clenching and then he’s shooting nothing but pathetic blanks. 

It takes you a second to register the sudden darkness - all across Tokyo, in fact. You’re gasping, “O-oh, Toru did you-”

“Run out-” he’s giggling. Giggling. “Fuck you m-made me- hah- really milked me dry, didn’t ya- Spread those pretty legs a bit more, pretty girl. Let me see.” All five rounded pads of his fingers are bruising on your thigh when Gojo’s splaying them out to confirm the sputtering way his cock was driving into you. “Can’t- can’t believe- no way, baby m’supposed t-to fill you up-”

Shit, he was babbling out his true intentions so stupidly. But luck was on his side, because with a final, jujutsu-sheened swat at your cunt, the buzzing power finally sends you over the edge. 

Crashing headfirst into waves upon waves of white-hot pleasure, the engulfing goodness made you squeal. And it made Gojo grit his teeth with a low whimper at the way the simple clenching convulse of your gripping walls wrapped around his cock made him twitch in another dry orgasm. Another. And another. 

God, his first - well, not quite first - time cumming inside you and he’s already so fucked out.

Yet, despite it all, Gojo could almost count it a success…almost. 

“S-sweetheart, y’know Yaga always taught us that science experiments have hah- twenty-five trials, right?”

“...”

A/N. Gojo’s so annoying I love him.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[classyrbf]

PERSONAL TRAINER! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...just some small little nsfw headcanons about personal trainer!gojo hehehe

INFO...personal trainer!gojo x fem!reader, gojo is touchy and pervy, sex in a gym, sex in the showers, oral (f!receiving), rough sex, praise, nipple play, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

personal trainer!gojo who you have the fattest crush on. You didn’t expect your personal trainer to be the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes but here you are

personal trainer!gojo who claims he’s a hands on trainer, demonstrating moves and helping you adjust your position and posture

personal trainer!gojo who is right behind you as he bends you over to make you touch your toes, his large hands on your as he pushes you down further and further “You got it…there we go. Yeah, good job.” You swear you almost melted right then and there

personal trainer!gojo who begins to compliment you everytime you walk in the gym, noticing how you always have your matching set on and how he can tell the workouts are really starting to shape your body like you hoped

personal trainer!gojo who gets you all hot and bothered when he’s doing push ups shirtless, sweat dripping down his godlike body, his grunts and groans filling your head with such perverted thoughts that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom

personal trainer!gojo who pretends like he doesn’t know he has an affect on you, purposely doing what he does just so he can see you get all flustered and riled up, he thinks it’s so cute

personal trainer!gojo who has you two do a late night workout session with only you two in the gym, you come in with your matching set and water bottle with a smile on your face, not a single thought behind those eyes on what he plans to do with you

personal trainer!gojo who makes you lay on your back and stretch your legs upward and toward your chest, his hands gripping your calf and pushing back, hovering over you as hiss at the stretch. “You can take it, I know you can.”

personal trainer!gojo who notices you look away from him, avoiding eye contact as he pushes your leg further and further, his hips pressed up right against your throbbing heat. His hands glide down to your thighs now, tossing your legs over his shoulders. He knows exactly what he’s doing

personal trainer!gojo who has you leggings ripped open minutes later with his thick cock shoved inside your pussy, pounding you into the gym floor while you cry out his name

personal trainer!gojo who’s got you bending in all types of positions, each one making your eyes roll back at the way he hits that spot deep inside you. “This is what we were practicing for, sweetheart.” His chuckle sends chills down your spine

personal trainer!gojo who has cum around his cock so many times you can’t even form words, mindlessly babbling before you’re squirting around his cock again, screaming in pleasure

personal trainer!gojo who eats pussy like a champ, slurping, licking, spitting all over it while he moans at your taste and scent. He’s got your legs pushed back all the way to your chest as his tongue expertly circles your puffy clit, taking one of his long, thick fingers to rub against your g-spot

personal trainer!gojo who even fucks you in the showers, hot water cascading down your skin, his hands mushing your face up against the wall while he fucks you like a slut but tells you how much of a good girl you are for taking him so well

personal trainer!gojo who loves your titties so much, always cupping them, squeezing them, twisting your cute perky nipples until you’re a whining mess

personal trainer!gojo who is still your personal trainer despite everything that happened between you two, allowing you to come over his house to workout instead of the gym just so he can have you all to himself and fuck you whenever he wants

personal trainer!gojo whose idea of cardio isn’t running or walking, no, he just ends up fucking you in his bed for several hours until your both dazed and drunk off of sex

personal trainer!gojo whose only plan now is to train you to take his cock until you become absolutely addicted to the way he stretches you out and makes you cum so hard

[lovelivision]

Satoru finding out reader has a praise kink🙏🙏🙏

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 and so it was done !! gojo and praise kink might kill me 🙂‍↕️ hope you like it lovely !! 💗💗

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Gojo is completely unfair when he discovers your praise kink in bed, his head tucked into your neck as he hammers into you, his moans and whimpers making your spine tingle. His hands everywhere on your body, pulling your face to his, lips interlocking hotly as he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

When he pulls back your lips are connected by a string of saliva, snapping as he licks at his lower lip, “You feel so good, sweetie,” he groans.

His hips stutter at how your pussy flutters around him, the small praise getting to you more than you think it should. Something he catches onto quickly, a breathless kind of chuckle leaving him at his realisation.

“You like being told how good you feel?” His voice is low, words tickling against your ear.

Turning your head away, you try asking for mercy, “Satoru–”

“–Don’t be so shy,” he almost singsongs at you, “You’re doing so good for me, taking it so well.”

You gasp at his words, hands pushing at his chest. It’s embarrassing how quickly he picked up on how he’s making you feel.

“So– fuck–so tight, gripping me like crazy,” he chokes on his moans, trying to talk to you at the same time.

He’s going crazy, your snug cunt sucking him back in every time he pulls back, pussy wet and drooling obscenely around him, slick coating his length so much that there’s a creamy, white ring at the base of his cock.

Your skin grows warmer at his earnest words, at how he moans for you, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he looks down between the two of you, to where he’s stuffing you full of his dick.

His eyes flick back to your face and it’s almost like he melts into a puddle for you all at once, a small whine leaving his lips before he has a chance to even think about stopping it. “You look really pretty,” he coos at you, large hand cradling your face.

The unexpected compliment has your pussy fluttering again, along with your heart, “I don’t think–”

“–I don’t think, I know,” his thumb pulls at your bottom lip before letting it go, “So beautiful while you let me fuck you full.”

His eyes are completely lost as he feeds you compliment after compliment, completely pussy drunk but still aware enough of what his praise does to keep spitting out nonsensical flattery. Words tripping over each other as his voice cracks with his moans and whimpers, the hand holding himself up gripping into the pillows behind you as he struggles to keep it together.

“Making the cutest faces– hnn– the cutest moans–” he intakes a sharp breath as you twitch around him, trailing off into a groan, “Don’t know how you feel so good, pussy divine– hah– fuck–”

The sounds of his pathetic moans and broken words have you dizzy, eyes hazy and wet as you struggle to focus in on his face. His own features wrecked, a lazy, blissed out smile on his face at how ruined and turned on he’s making you.

“Pretty little thing, look so hot when you’re close, sweetie.”

It’s entirely too much, his words pushing you over the edge, cumming all over his cock, coating him in your slick. Gojo doesn’t hold out much longer after, only really capable of a few more thrusts before he’s dumping his cum deep inside you, painting your walls white.

When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum dribbles from your cunt, his smile bright when he says, “You look pretty full of my cum.”

Proud of himself, even when you throw a pillow in his direction, because he now knows just how much you like when he compliments you and he’s never going to let you forget that.

[miihho]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[eloquentlytired]

Logan with a breeding kink fic? 😉

18+ mdni

— raw.

pairing: logan howlett x fem reader

word count: less than 900

tags: unprotected sex — breeding — logan is feral — just filthy smut — risky sex — dom/sub undertones

author’s note: hi anon I hope this was a good read for you. logan having a breeding kink is so incredibly canon honestly

ৎৎৎ

“lo.” you moan as you lie facedown on the bed, legs straight, hips slightly raised. logan enters you from behind and the way he stretches you in this position has you whimpering. one of his large hands puts weight on your head and forces you to bury it against the bedsheets as you sob beneath him. his other hand stays on your middle to kind of support himself as he fucks you, driving his veiny cock into your deepest parts. the bed creaks beneath your moving bodies but you don't seem to care. logan grunts as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, coating it too with your arousal. “still taking your pills like a good girl?” the shake of your head makes his hips slow down and gradually stop. you tilt your head at an awkward angle to stare at him and he stares back. “w—we ran out.” you whisper, voice still laced with arousal and need. logan weighs his options as his eyes drift downwards where his cock is completed soaked by your wetness and even his pubic hair drip with the doings of your pussy. his bare cock twitches inside you and you moan. “not safe,lo. let's just—”

there's not much you can do in this position when logan starts thrusting again. you take what he gives you and your eyes roll back when the fat head of his cock kisses your sweet spot, making your entire body shake all over. tears of pleasure slide down your cheeks and he leans down to kiss a tender spot on your shoulder before biting down. he grounds his hips in circles and you almost scream. “there— there,lo.” you beg him and he repeats the motion again and again. when your pussy tightens around him as you cum, logan growls into your shoulder and you can sense him growing more feral over you. your hands grip onto the bedsheets for dear life as you drool and cry against the mattress. logan drives his cock faster inside you and a few more thrusts later he fills you up, leaning the weight of his lower body on yours that his cock nudges impossible places within you. it makes you squirm and logan offers you a reassuring kiss as he pants against your shoulder, trying to process the raw feel of your walls around his bare girth.

“fuck.” you hear him curse minutes later and when you look back, your eyes widen. logan slips his softening cock out of your pussy and watches as his own come drips out and over your cunt. you exchange a silent and long stare and then logan is moving you again. you don't know what's happening or why but you're about to.

you've lost count and you've also lost any sanity left for the time being. you drag a hand over your belly as logan pumps his load inside you again, making your thighs shake from where they sit atop his own. you're laying on your back this time while he gets comfortable between your spread legs, breeding you until the late hours. “one last time. I swear,baby.” he lies through his teeth again and you allow it. logan slips his hands underneath your legs and shoves them back until your knees are nearly touching your chest. his cock is still hard and leaking — he'd really done it this time — and he wants to blame your bare cunt for wrapping around his cock so perfectly. you're tired and your pussy feels a little sore but you can't help but reach a wandering hand to your clit and rub it as logan fucks you mercilessly. his balls are heavy and drag against you with each shallow thrust. your entire body shakes and your other hand remains atop your stomach; you're full, so full, and your toes curl when you think about how much of logan’s seed you've stored in your womb.

“lo—” you're letting go again, your entire body spasming as your fingers shake against your swollen clit. logan’s eyes narrow when he watches you squirt beneath him and one of his hands is moving down to toy with your pussy, his fingers moving past yours and past your clit to tease the source of your squirt. it makes you cry and nearly scream. logan feels his balls tighten and before you know it he's already giving it to you again, spilling everything inside your pussy to make it full. to make his seed take place. “lo.” by the time you call for him he's already slipping a hand around your nape, clutching it, while his other hand joins your own on top of your stomach.

your lips meet and logan soothes you. “so pretty, so sweet. you took so much in ya, princess.” and his whispers make you tremble even more as you kiss him back slowly. his kisses are nothing like the way he fucks you; they're slow, patient and gentle. logan hums into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. his fingers flex upon your stomach, even doing so much as squeeze it. he loves it. “how ‘bout we forget about those pills?” logan growls.

his cock doesn't stay soft for long and when his hand presses into your tummy possessively, you know exactly what awaits you.

[crushmeeren]

Sex chocolate with Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa and maybe Toshinori???

⋆ ft. izuku ⋆

⋆ this is written as if the guys didn’t know they’d eaten the chocolate and how they’d react to the treat. sorry I didn’t put Toshinori in this, I’m not quite sure how to write his personality yet. (ó﹏ò｡)

𝛏 master list link 𝛏

// @emmab3mma hope you enjoy! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Izuku’s lips would tug into a sheepish smile, no doubt thankful for the sweet treat pick me up. His eyes would brighten, a satisfied hum dancing in the air.

Izuku would be unbearably jittery out on patrol that evening, hopping from the sidewalk on one side the street to the other, green light crackling in his wake. He’d do it mindlessly, thoughts wandering to you and what you currently could be doing.

Suddenly, he’d be flailing mid air when he vividly imagines you on your knees, plush lips stretched so wide on his cock he knows it must hurt your mouth. Izuku would stumble when he hit the concrete, catching himself on the bench nearby.

Izuku’s expression would twist from calm to horrified, thoughts running a mile a minute when he steadies himself and realizes his cock is…hard. Throbbing. Straining against his hero suit. He’d make haste running to the nearest building with a public restroom.

Izuku would shut the door to the restroom and lock it before anyone could even notice he entered. He’d be frantic, shoving his pants down mid thigh as he leaned against the wall and hissed through his teeth when the cool air hit his freely bobbing cock.

He’d have a million concerns in the back of his head but not be able to focus on a single one. Izuku would have a one track mind, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking until he came in less than 20 seconds to the image of you on your knees.

Izuku would be so embarrassed afterwards, cheeks bright pink as he adjusts his clothes and washes his hands.

Being as smart as he is, he’d have a suspicion this is related to the chocolate you gave him and he intends to find out once he’s home. Once he returned, he’d tease you until you’re on the edge of tears and blurting out the truth, fucking you until your mind whites out and you scream his name.

Lucky you.

Keigo would give you a flirty grin, winking playfully as he snatched the chocolate from you and swallowed it within two bites. You’d give him an unimpressed look but he’d just laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Keigo isn’t surprised when he got a boner while soaring through the skies on the way to his agency. He’d been thinking about you anyways and his dick getting hard wasn’t uncommon when he thought of you. It’d be fair to say that happened often, if he’s honest.

Keigo would take note of the violent flush crawling down his neck and snaking under the fuzzy collar of his flight jacket. He’d suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and adjust his cock in his pants so it’s sticking straight up instead of outward.

He’d be able to somewhat focus on the business meeting he didn’t want to attend in the first place, only being reprimanded a few times more than normal for zoning out.

Keigo’s pulse would thunder. He’d wear a neutral expression, letting his chin rest in his propped up hand as he sent a feather to find and turn on the air because why the fuck is it so hot in here?

He’d text you something filthy as discreetly as he could under the table, biting his knuckles when you sent back a picture of yourself with your tits on display. Keigo would come to the conclusion that maybe he was a bit more pathetically horny than normal and he needed to ditch this meeting yesterday.

Keigo would go straight home, ignoring anyone who had tried to speak with him on his way out. He’d find you on the couch with nothing on but an oversized shirt and waving what’s left of the chocolate bar at him with a smirk when he entered through the balcony.

He wouldn’t even be upset when you told him what you’d done. He’d just crowd close, looming over you with a wolfish grin that shot a thrill down your spine.

Keigo would succumb to the aphrodisiac completely. He’d bend you over the backrest of the couch at hip level and wrench your arms taut behind you, fingers circling your wrists to secure you in place.

Keigo would have no mercy, sliding his cock in your tight pussy before you’re turned on enough to take him smoothly. He’d send a feather down to play with your clit until you strain to escape, not stopping despite your pleas because “this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? yeah, so stop yapping and take it.”

In the end all you can do is nod, because if you truly wanted him to stop you’d only have to say the safe word.

Shouta would raise an eyebrow with a bored expression on his features. He’d roll his eyes and eat the chocolate after you pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes at him.

Shouta’s a sucker for you.

He’d be grading papers that afternoon, knuckles rubbing at his sleepy eyes in the office of your shared home. He’d take a break, pressing his palms to his eyes and resting his elbows on the desk.

A scenario would pop into his head, one where you sat on the edge of the desk while he’d relax in his chair and lazily eat you out. He can imagine the way your clit would feel against his tongue, how warm and soft your pussy would be on his lips.

Shouta would lean back in the chair, a hand absently dropping to his lap to palm his cock and he’d be startled at just how much he’d filled out already. His dick hot and sticking to his inner thigh. Shocked at the unavoidable thick warmth swirling in his belly when it’d usually take a bit more than a brief daydream to get this worked up.

He’d be certain that you had something to do with this and irritation would lance through him. He’d sit in the kitchen once he’s finished, arms crossed and cock stubbornly refusing to flag until you returned home.

Shouta would ask you about it as if he were asking a child if they had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Easily, you admit to it. No hesitation, no shame, just a smug air about you.

Then, Shouta would make his fantasy a reality. He’d eat your pussy until you were right on the edge of cumming and then he’d stop. He’d speak condescendingly, saying “poor baby, your pussy just wants to cum doesn’t she?” as he sits you roughly down on his cock.

He’d spank you a few times, teasing you a bit more but he’d make you cum so intensely your toes would cramp — and then he’d keep going until his own brain got fuzzy.

Touya would say fuck no at first. He doesn’t like chocolate. Until you mention there’s something special about the sweet and he assumes it’s an edible. You don’t bother to correct him because, technically, it is an edible, just not the kind filled with weed.

Touya would be leaning his back against the railing on your balcony, angled so he can peer into the open doors of your living room. He’d have a cigarette dangling from his lips, scrubbing at his cheek with one hand because yeah, his cheeks are typically roasting but they’re never this hot.

He’d shrug it off and nonchalantly light up the cigarette with his pointer finger. He’d startle as the tiny flame bursts into a fireball that he really didn’t mean to create when you stride past the doorway in soft shorts that show the crease of where your thigh joins your ass.

You’d freeze mid step and turn to stare at him incredulously, lips parted slightly when the aftershock of heated air damn near singes your skin.

Touya would be flustered. Cheeks painted rosy pink with embarrassment at the lack of control over his quirk. He’d scowl harshly, pinching his brows together as he dropped and stomped on his cigarette to put it out. He’d stalk towards you and snarl “why the hell are you wearing those fucking shorts?” as if his sudden overbearing lust is your fault specifically.

You’d roll your eyes and begin walking in the direction you’d intended in the first place but Touya would snatch your wrist tight enough the bones grind together and drag you to your bedroom. He’d ignore your obviously fake bewildered expression and shove you onto the mattress. He can’t focus on the fact that you seem to be going along with this a bit too easily.

His cock would be jumping and pushing painfully against the zipper of his jeans before he so much as kissed you. He wouldn’t get either of you truly naked, he’d just slide your soft shorts to the side and unzip his jeans. He’d shove your shirt to your collarbone so he could watch the way your tits are about to bounce.

Touya would yank your ankles up and over his shoulders until the backs of your thighs press into his chest and then fold you in half like you’re a fucking blanket. He’d tilt his hips until his tip catches on your pussy and then he’s shoving his cock all the way inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

Touya wouldn’t have the self control to stop for a long time that evening and you’d almost regret giving him the chocolate. Almost.