#i love how his voice cracks so much

[breathlessmorro]

Anyways absolutely worth losing all of my money guys here is Morro singing I kissed a boy - IGNORE ALL THE NICE STUFF ANDREW SAID ABOUT ME BECAUSE THAT GENUINELY HAD ME SMILING AND GIGGLING MAN'S WAS BRINGING THE GOOD VIBES TO THE PARTY AND HE DELIVERED

[jangmi-latte]

rook ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

[sillyabtmusic]

it may come as a surprise to you all but im thinking about kingdom rn

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Left my Xbox for too long to sort laundry so Ishin's Quick Resume didn't work, meaning I had to kill Izo twice

[tonycries]

Like a Dog!

Synopsis. Jealous? How cute. He’s yours - and he’ll fúck you until you won’t forget it.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, jealousy s, marathons, NÉEDY BOYS, dúmbifícation, proposals, creampíes, praise, GOJO’S POWERS, márking, they’re YOURS, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s tattoos, cervíx kíssing, fitting it, talking you through it, p slápping, p talking, ex-husband!Toji, spítting, comfort, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Wedding vows!

“Soooo…” Toji’s sneaking long, languid drags of his fat thumb up and down your sappy folds. And it makes your breath hitch, your thighs quivering just in time for him to sidle two staggering palms underneath and stretch. Wide open. “-still...jealous, doll?”

Ruining you for what seemed like copious hours upon hours non-stop, that very same question left Toji’s scarred lips in cloudy little pants like a smug mantra. 

The bed was recklessly creaky at this point, splinters cracking with every sloppy pound that had your sanity doing much the same. 

And Toji’s crushing you against the clammy mounds of his Herculean pecs, heaving. Gasping. So, so needy that just about all you can do at this point is bumble out an embarrassed little, “Wh-why?”

“Because m’yours, mama.” Whining as his sheeny-lathered lips snicker from right beside your tender ear, and his mushroomy tip grazes right down his favorite target of your treacly slit. Slow. Steady. “And I hafta prove it.”

Nevermind the fact that he was talking like he wasn’t your ex-husband of just a few days. 

Nevermind the fact that you’re sure the pulpy depths of your poor cunt was already utterly bruised and battered with the exact bulky circumference of Toji’s proud crownhead. Because Toji Fushiguro could never dream of being with another.

He’s tugging you even more pliably into this mean full nelson of his, squeezing out a thick few dewdrops of buttery pre that lather your puckered hole. Rotund, curvaceous mound of his fattened head swirling patterned circles at your snug hole around and around-

“Don’ tell me this pretty pussy’s hngh- forgotten about me already?” He’s murking out, planting exactly three simpering swats! to your slick-flooded entrance before sinking in- “Heh- yeahhh that’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

Because your drooling cunt was always so greedy for him - your bloated pussy lips struggling and hungry being opened oh-so-widely agape. It made your slackened maw lather with a fresh wave of saliva at the sheerly raw stretch.

“Good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.” Toji’s huffing out, head tilting sleazily to the side to take in every inch of the heavenly bouquet envisioned right below him. “Bet ya missed me all deep inside, huh? S’that why you’re gettin’ all jealous over some rando?”

But, of course, the silent treatment never worked on Toji - and you’re finding him cooing, “Awww, c’mon my wife-” Such pointed, loving emphasis, “-talk to me. Lemme hear those pretty noises.”

And you hate the way that his rumbling baritone tilts into something mockingly higher. You hate the way that his bludgeoning tip rims around your gooey slick-filled entrance and makes your voice crack.

“T-talking about ah- jealous-” You’re managing out, and Toji’s willowy eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the way you can manage out coherent syllables even through each punctuating drill. “-but I ngh- saw the way you looked at my coworker, you green-eyed m-monster.”

He’s scoffing, spanking your overstuffed pussy once. Twice. Thrice just for good measure. “Feisty, aren’t you, mama?”

And every minute wiggle is dampered helplessly by the way that he’d curled two large forearms - muscular and veiny - around your legs to embrace you tightly. Chin rested over your head, “He was only bein’ nice-”

“And nice isn’t gonna get your hngh- cute cunt sucking like as slut like this.” Toji’s rolling his eyes, “Don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. No need to be shy.”

Massively engulfing hands of his crown the topped curve of your dangling knees and mold you to every one of Toji’s lecherous whims until you almost do feel shy. But there was absolutely nothing shy about the way that he was now leering at you.

Hot breath wafting with the sound of a low whistle, “Shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh? Don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya? Why the fuck would I ever wan’ anyone else? Silly girl…”

“S-stop- staring—” You’re whining out, fingers tangling through the tresses of Toji’s darkly silken bangs and pulling. A blasphemous little action that earns you a heavy-handed thud of his bloated head into your soppy cervix. 

“How can I not stare, mama- she’s mine, isn’t she?” And there was something in his tone, something…edged and rough- and you swear that Toji was the one that sounded somewhat jealous. Sounded gone. “And I’m yours, of course.”

Ruined every time his ruddied tip was skimming past the syrupy adhesive-like maze of your insides and thumping right into the targeted bullseye of your cervix. 

He’s so hot underneath you - feverish. The ridged ladders of his washboard abs slipping and sliding a lewd massage underneath your back. And the feeling is so heavenly that you’re wondering why you ever signed those divorce papers in Higuruma’s office in the first place.

“No needa worry- M’yours, doll-” Grit out. Harsh. Punishing as much as his deep strokes were messing up your poor insides. Making sure that you won’t forget. Voice seeping with something wild, “H-heh. Divorced or not- a d-divorce which won’t last for ngh- long anyway- I got every part of ya ah- fucking memorized, y’know? Think I’d do that for hngh- anyone else?”

“E-every?” Your legs and voice are wobbling like jelly at his words.

“Every.”

As if to prove his point, he’s thumbing gluttonously over the rounded outline of where he was rummaging your sodden walls. Shooting out a few wiry spatters of pre that almost fill you up to the brim - so much of it - once he’s gliding over with a few cocky touches.

“My favorite spot s’always here-” The tremors of his recoiling bounces into your spongy womb rattle your melty mind. You feel the jitters of his thick thigh muscles when he arches into a curve up, up, up. “-knock knock.”

“S-so…” Mumbling, shit- Toji was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough of you. “-filthy.”

He’s rolling his eyes at that little comment - you like it, anyway if that warm geyser streaming from between your mushy folds told him anything. 

“N’ I remember that your hngh- favorite spot was here…” Oh, you knew what he was doing - you knew exactly the way in which Toji’s dark brows would scrunch with rude delight when his strawberry divot slurs right past that magical spot. “Orrrrr…here-” Ramming resoundingly with his left-leaning girth in exactly the opposite way from the spot that only he could reach so well. Toji’s tongue pops out to lap at his sneaky dribble of saliva - he was loving this. “Whoops…maybe-”

“F-fuck-” You’re all but begging, your whimpers going straight to that forevermore bloated shaft of his. Pumping in a few horny ounces that make him grow even thicker, “-fine- fuck! Please-”

“Hm…” Toji’s tutting, bangs sticking to the plane of his prespired forehead as he shakes his head understandingly. Mockingly so. “What’s that?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

He’s lolling out his tongue to lap at the salty pearls of tears beginning to waterfall from your fluttering eyes, “Say ‘please- husband.’”

The embarrassment and pure irritation curdling in your veins was strong, but your need - your throb from the wet patch between your legs, and that spot was even stronger. Shit, you needed him. “P-please…my husband.”

Ah, the words are barely spilling from your mouth, barely even reaching our own ears before Toji’s making you see white-hot pleasure flickering behind your lids. A drawling keen dragging out from your throat as soon as his curvaceous cockhead nuzzles up in a sweet, sweet hug into your g-spot. 

And your ears can only thunder with your heartbeat, your spine bowing as your husband plaps his fat cock into your most candied spots over and over and over-

“One more thing.” Something cool touches your face, and only seconds later do you recognize it to be a phone. Your phone. “Tell that lil’ loser of a coworker that yer hgh- married. And-” Another deafening pap! “-expecting.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Yours, always.

“I…I’m sorry, my love.” Nanami hisses - he heaves the moment his buttery-topped tip was sinking past your puckered entrance. And there’s a dangerous furrow between his neat, blond brows, “But I can’t have ya sayin’ anything bad about my wife.”

And he was so serious - seriously in love with the way you were gaping up with spit-flooded lips when one of his thick, calloused digits massage over your eagerly peaked clit with the chillingly golden band of his wedding ring. Matching with yours. 

Your fingers dig into the plane of your husband’s unfairly broad shoulders underneath his blue button-up, all rippling muscles and sheer dripping sex appeal. He hadn’t even bothered to take his office clothes before helping you…feel better. “Kento, I-I’m just sayin’ your new c-coworker is so much prettier-”

Thwack!

Only for him to cut you off with a heavy-handed spank to your treacly cunt, and a rumbling growl - rasping from beneath his stern lips once Nanami grants you with a filthy, filthy glissade of a French kiss. And you could taste him - taste yourself from his makeout with your slobbery pussy just before.

Your sticky slick lacquering his gummy lips in a candied glaze, slipping and sliding all the way down the dimpled edges of his grin, his chin, down below between his cushiony pecs- 

It was like a badge of honor, and Nanami Kento gladly and proudly adorned it.

You’re just leaking from that gooey spot between your legs when he’s back to pressing peck after peck on both your lips and your cushy g-spot. Dribbles of translucent slick drenching Nanami’s tawny happy trail - and his ring. 

One that’s pushed between your lecherously parted lips to swirl around that whiny cavern of your mouth, making you just shut up-

“G-gonna-” Clawing at his strong forearms, shocked that you were being halfway choked by your dear, gentle husband. “-gonna get dirty this way, K-Ken-”

“No, don’t mind getting…dirty if it’s you.” You’re hearing Nanami gasp from above you, murky pants of his shooting out in a rasping ah! ah! ah! And his droopily half-lidded eyes just bore into yours with sweet connection, “And I hate disrespectin’ my ngh- wife, this way but…but m’not gonna go easy on you tonight, darlin’.”

Fuck.

The bed sings out splintering creaks with every thud! of Nanami’s fatly bloated tip smooching up against your spongy cervix. Every bouncy bludgeon spurting out the most dewy ribbons of his precum from the very tip of his rounded crownhead. Proud and ruthless.

You can only wring your fingers through Nanami’s golden strands, unsticking stray locks from his prespired forehead. Babbles upon babbles spill from your lips, “I-fuck! Kentoooo- it f-feels so good.”

“Good, hm? Th-tha’s right-” Freely thumbing away a few puddly gumdrops of saliva that’d begun just spilling from the corners of your maw with every hit after hit- 

And every clashing pivot of his toned hipbones sting, heat blossoming up your spine in this sloppy mess of a mating press that Nanami had manhandled you into. But he needed more- more more more-

“S-shoooo good, Ken- right there-” Lewd little strings of hiccups are bubbling from your chest and wafting up between the bustling fingers still toying with your mouth and making you suck. Tongue swirling up the cold engraved metal of his ring as if your favorite honeyed lolly, “Always feels so ngh- good havin’ you inside me-”

Too good.

Unable to help yourself from greedily clasping onto that dangling yellowy tie sticking to your sweat-simmered tits and pulling-

And oh, this makes Nanami gasp- free hand slamming! down onto the timber bedframe. This makes his hips hammer forward with a loudly ringing pap! Plummy, split cockhead probing into your cervix hard. 

Never slowing down, never stopping- hell, he doesn’t think he even could right now. 

“H-heh, my clever girl.” A kiss against your forehead. “My needy girl.” Your cheeks. Each side. “My ngh- beautiful girl- most beautiful girl in this world.”

There’s such utter and true loving in his foggy mahogany eyes that you almost feel shy. “D-don’t look at me like that, Kento.”

“Y’know I only h-have eyes for you, my love…” Accompanied by the digits rummaging deep inside your sultry mouth to reel back with a sodden plap! And dip down to caressingly pinch your plump clit, “C’mon- tighter. Mark me up. Tight.”

And there’s nothing you can do but listen to what he says.

How could you not?

Not when the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was begging - pleading - down at you to choke his velveteen tie even tighter around his attractive throat. Adam’s apple bobbing at your increasing strain, lightning bolts of veins thumping when you squeeze.

“Yeahhh- don’ be shy. Let everyone know- fuuuuck-” Bleary head falling back with every adhesive-like cling of your elastic walls - or, at least, trying to if it wasn’t for your chokehold with his tie. Nanami’s lips curl into an oh-so-feral snarl, head tilting to the side to chafe his own flesh with the ropey bruises of your actions. “-mark me up s-so that the whole office knows m’yours. And I…”

Fuck, you looked so cute fucked dumb and drooling on his fat dick like this. 

Nanami’s thick muscular thighs are shivering at this point, shovelling your own further and further upon the more he could feel himself losing his fucking mind. 

“And I’m gonna m-marry you.” Bumbling out over and over like a mantra now, Nanami was so pussydrunk that his rotund tip wasn’t even kissing up against the bullseye of your g-spot directly anymore. Breath hitching, “Gonna marry- hngh- needa marry. B-be your husband- and-” Just dragging out achy massages of his swollen length to lustre every gooey inch of you with layers on top of voluminous layers of his- cum? “Sh-shit.”

Because Nanami was cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Heaps of weighty ropes splatter across your elastic channel, it’s swashing around in thick masses every time he’s fucking it back deeply into you. “I love you.”

CRACK! 

At this moment, you’re sure that it’s your mind splintering into a million pieces, and only many, many hours later do you realize that it’s your poor broken bedframe. Because you’re overspilling with drooling dredges of pearlescent seed and bliss when that finally pushes you over the edge, too. “K-Kentoooo-”

“Shhh sh sh- m’here Hold onto me-” he’s rasping out. Airy. Depraved. Like Nanami doesn’t even know that the words are leaving his lips. “So perfect…wanna marry you, darling.”

You can only blurt out a drunken giggle, “Ken- we’re ngh- already married.”

“Oh…then…you already know m’yours…” Nuzzling his face into his favorite hideout at the crook of your neck, Nanami’s words are almost cracking into a whine - a plea for the very first time in his life. “-body and soul.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - XOXO

“Why hello to you, too.” You flinch when Geto snickers once his sneaking fingers massage downwards to pry open your thoroughly puckered and drooling pussy lips. He wasn’t talking to you. “Wanna help me make my girl all happy again?”

And he’s humming along, throwing your pliable legs easily over his sculptured shoulders with an understanding nod. “Mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“You’re s-such a tease.” You’re huffing out, brows knitting in a way that only made the pretty man above you kiss away. 

“And you’re such a green-eyed lil’ monster.” He’s purring back, a rasping growl leaking its way into Geto’s teasing words. “And as much as I love that ah- jealous pout on ya, gorgeous, better know it only makes me…harder.”

Geto’s snaking a hand to pry your drunkenly lolling head to veer downwards, chuckling at the way your droopy eyes widen when you’re taking note of his staggeringly bloated cock laid right there between your legs. Red and angry. So ready to pump the heated geyser between your legs full of his inches, that he can’t help but bawl out a ribbony string of pre smearing across your tummy. Enough so that you can almost taste it-

“What? What happened to my heh- snappy girl, huh?” Inky bangs mussing up when he’s cocking his head to simply leer. Such a sleazy look of depravity taking over all of his features, “Too big?” 

You’re shaking your head - gasping, “Y-yes but I want it- want you hck! inside me so badly, Suguru—”

“Say m’name like that n’ I’ll cum.” He’s rolling his eyes, truly unabashed and greedy. With a sopping wet plap! Geto’s planting your treacly slit with a spank, only for you to be presented with the big beefy expanse of his pale forearm before you can even make a whiny noise. “Now, bite down and take it.”

You think you could sob when every long, girthy inch of his fills you up to your very brim. Bulky globular tip kissing past your gluey lips and mazing you open so widely around him, until your elastic walls were tautly stretched till you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein, every goopy spurt of warm pre that showered your melty insides. 

“Heh.” Fuck, Geto’s heart just lurches with something warm at that heart-eyed cross of your pupils. Such a pretty picture. “Can ya count how many inches f’me, gorgeous?”

Ah, you couldn’t think much less count with just how battering Geto was with his mindless ruts just to fit inside. Washboard abs flexing with every push, push, push-

You’re letting go of his heated flesh with a soppy pwah! bursting from your lungs. “E-eight?” Only to be hit with a messy thud! of his thick cockhead dragging down your mushy walls, throbbing veins thumping at your tenderized spots in time with your very heartbeat. Oh. “Nine?”

“Atta girl.” The calloused mountains of his palms covet underneath your thighs and manhandle you even closer to lock them around his neck. Tighter. “Got a whole nine inches j-just for you, alllll for this pretty pussy right here.”

You can’t help but feel like a fucking toy at the merciless hands of Geto Suguru - and he’s more than happy to pliantly jerk you around until you were halfway through sobbing at the sheer pounds after pounds.

Your glossed lips can only part open when he’s punctuating each thrust with a tug on the precious hood of your clit, and Geto was always the best with his fingers. Dipping and swirling them around dexterously to make you see flashing stars, “Sugu, it- It feels- so-”

“Louder.”

“S-Sugu-”

“Ah ah- louder.” Mahogany headboard clattering against the walls, about to break. To snap. Just as much as he was right about now. “Don’ hold back any fuck- pretty noises from me. The entire ah- place hasn’t heard ya yet.”

“Mhmm, does it feel hah- good when big bad Sugu is fucking you stupid?” Leaving a sweet little pap! of his blushing red tip particularly hard into your g-spot, you swear you could taste the bliss of his bumpy veins branding into your tenderized orifices. “When ya don’t have to think about ngh- aaaany of those silly things?”

And you couldn’t worry about anything - not that too-flirty new member of the association, not your jealousy - not when Geto was fucking each and every thought out of your poor mind. 

Barely even registering it even once one engulfing hand curls gently at the back of your neck to hide away your prespired face into the clammy crook of his neck. So pretty and supple when he’s guiding you to bite, “C’mon then- heh- mark me. Use me. Show off that m’yours.”

“Y-you’re enjoying this-” you’re whining, though, nosing away to pinprick littering bites that blossom and bloom, and show off even if he had his traditional robes on. 

“And you’re turned on.” He’s finishing off your never-ending mewls, head lolling backwards drunkenly to give you an even bigger canvas to work with. “Feeling me all deep inside-” Splaying out a palm along your tummy to feel for that cylindrical outline of something hard. Aching. Bumping up in wet smooches into your deepest spots. “Such a possessive lil’ thing milkin’ me. I need you to fuck me. Fuh-fuck me.”

Muttering, “Ngh- should- should fuck you in front of the whole cult to l-let them know.” Your murky huffs are laced with something grumbling that makes his fattened tip twitch. 

It’s only then and there that you hear notorious clan leader Geto Suguru whimper. For the first time ever in his life, breaking at the seams when your nails rake pretty red valleys down the mountainous expanse of his Adonis-like back. 

Flexing and rippling and fuck-

Fuck, Geto thinks he could almost cum right then and there at the awe-strucken expression smeared all over your face. The way your lips were curling with trickling rivulets of drool and you barely even realize.

“That’s right-” He’s cooing at your nonsensical babbling like it was his favorite conversation, and you’ve never seen him so fucked. So much like putty underneath your hands as you leave marks for days. Maw slagging open with a smirk, heady lids so heavy and hypnotized that they’re practically closed. “That’s right, that’s riiiight- That can be arranged.”

Your greedy fingerpads tangle with his silken locks and jerk in shock, syrupy sap leaking sobbing between your pursed lips and forming a little ring right at Geto’s hulking base once you’re registering what he said. “Can be- arranged?”

And ah- Geto knows he loves you. He really, really loves you. Marked and yours, he’s whispering, “Anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-I’m yours…”

And not even the way that poor Choso was buried vulgarly deep into every syrupy nook and cranny of your pretty pussy would stop him from rambling those whimpering words. In fact, it was the opposite. 

He was so thoroughly pussydrunk that just a few sloppy sucks of our glutinous walls makes Choso’s heaving chest stutter mid-fuck. Drooling maw falling pathetically open at the sheen sprays formulating around his swollen, rose-pink shaft. 

So glossy and pretty that he feels hypnotized.

“Cho…” Only snapping half-awake once your trembly fingers dive into Choso’s slightly dampened chestnut locks. And the flutters of his long lashes are so adorable, “D’you ngh- mean that?”

“Of course! Don’t be silly, my baby–” And he can’t even believe what he’s hearing - you? The light of his life? Fucking jealous over a too-flirty sorcerer? God, if it wasn’t for the way that his breath hitches at the dewy cling of your mushy walls exactly around his sensitive underside, then Choso would’ve thought that he was dreaming. “You know you’re the ah! only one for me.”

And he meant it with every pound after papping pound of his plumpened, ruddy crownhead drawing spattered gashes into your rubbery channel. 

Rubbing over one slender thumb to trailway the peak of your buttony clit, Choso can’t hold back his keening whine at just how much wetter that makes your already-slobbering pussy. Swirling pressurized gyrations over and over, he’s muttering away, “G-gonna prove it- g’na make you cum- ngh- have to- ah fuck-”

“Oh- shit- B-baby, I can’t stop-” You’re whispering at the fountained squirt of your slick flooding the sultry non-existent space between you two - you’re so responsive today, and Choso thinks he could cum just from this. 

“Fuck me-” he’s dribbling through roughly parted lips, nose crinkling with utter bliss. “Fuck me- ngh- Yeah yeah yeah, milk me and make me yours, baby- only ever want you to milk me.”

You’re snickering with such utter loving in your eyes that it makes him shy. “H-heh, so cute when you’re fucking yourself so hah- deep in me like this, baby.”

He could whine, could beg your cute cunt for more. Could feel not even a mere inkling of embarrassment as his tongue lolls out like such a slut to slide glazy digits all the way into the back of his greedy throat. Dewy eyes shuttering at the sugarcoated taste of your sweet, sweet juices-

“Oh, but you sh-shouldn’t ever need to be jealous. I w-wanna…” he’s starting off with a tremoring wobble of his jutted, strawberry-pink lips. Thickly viscous coatings of saliva and your slick hanging off of them like a sticky second skin, “-wanna s-stuff my face between your pretty legs forever and ever, baby–”

And Choso couldn’t fucking believe the words were spilling from his mouth - he was supposed to be making his poor girl feel better. Supposed to be comforting you.

But these are so sinful that it makes your beloved boyfriend burn a bright blossoming red, such a pretty flush eating one the apples of his cheeks. One you can’t help but cup, “S’that all?”

Shit, Choso can feel his buttery pre coil out in a few soppy splotches that puddle at the end of your pulpy cervix, split-ended shaft making such a mess. His hefty breeder balls clench tautly at the teasing tone of your voice- dammit. He can’t cum before you.

“N-no.” Pearly white teeth sinking into his gummy bottom lip, Choso chews away as if it was his favorite candy. Trying so-very-hard to hold himself back. “Wanna fuck her- ngh-” And just one look– just one sneaking spy down at where he was disappearing back and forth always left him stupidly speechless. “-her…p-pretty lips until I…die. Think m’ngh- addicted, baby—”

He was so precious.

Tear-streaked face nuzzling the crook of your neck, dexterous fingers knotting around the bulky base of his length. And the only thing that Choso’s heavy tongue can jumble out is a mixture of your name and please- please please-

“Aww, Cho–” You’re prying his sweaty face away to gaze down ravenously into yours, and just the sweet eye contact is enough to make his skin even more feverishly blushing pink. “Are you close?”

“N-no…”

A lie - and both of you knew it.

Because Choso’s streaks of thumping veins down his sensitive cock always throbbed so much harder when it was building up. His dark lashes lacquering with a salty layer of tears, sculptured abs flexing and pulling tight when his sloppy hips pap! pap! pap! into your fleshy mounds like such an animal.

Choso has never felt more out of control - more and more like his sanity was fraying away with every bumpy nudge of his dewdropping rotund tip into your bouncy sweet spots. With every drag of your raking nails down his scalp in a way that makes him think he would fucking purr if he could-

“I…I lied.” He’s confessing like his greatest sin, one arm wrangling around your waist to smush your naked tits against his cushy pecs. Cozy. “M’gonna cum-”

“Cum f’me, Choso.”

Biting back a shrilling mewl at the lecherous use of his full name, he’s already feeling the white-hot shockwaves of his tightly teetering orgasm swirling around in his thwacking balls. Urgently latching two soft-padded fingertips onto your clit, Choso pinches-

And then you’re both cumming.

You don’t know who was first - but in the depths of your lust-filmed mind, you’re sure you tied for the hardest. Because you’re seeing ivory - or make that was just the thickly viscous globs of seed that verspilled from your knotted cunt. 

“Fuh-fuck me-” he’s gurgling out, reeling you into his glimmering, toned body so tightly. Usually so conscious of crushing you with his weight, but now you’re being pinned to the soaked sheets with every ounce of him. He’s melting into you, abs against your tummy, thighs against your own, head dripping into your throat to bite. “Love you- love you love you love- love being yours. And yours o-only.”

Clingy wads of seed sloshing out of you with every sensitive buck, Choso’s still fucking you through your high. Fucking you like he can’t stop the steaming hot piles of cum being poured out into your cozy pussy until you were flooded to the brim.

And through your black-tinged vision you can make out the hypnotized figure of him dipping down two ravaging fingers to smear the clingfilm of lustrous creamy white. Swabbing a generous helping before popping them into his dribbling mouth-

“Baby, did you know curses mate for life?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Cross my heart

“Hah- what was that again, silly human?” Sukuna’s crossing over his big beefy arms exactly how he knew you liked, and the way you’re ogling the powerful flexes of his biceps is just so darn cute. “Jealous? Repeat that f’me- for your king.”

As if you could. 

As if Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fucking you stupid right now - for what seemed like hours and hours and hours. The fat globe of his bawling cockhead drawing a few trickles of sap down your battered g-spot each and every time. Every vicious rut arching perfectly off of his luxurious throne to leave wet plap! after plap! after plap! on your poor stinging mounds of flesh.

You were supposed to be riding him - but, of course, the king of curses had to steal your thunder. Had to shut up your shrilling whines by bumping his hips into you mercilessly. 

“Oi oi-” Two dark-nailed digits are slicking in front of your deliciously crossed eyes to snap you out of your cockdrunken little haze, and with a sharp snap! your pulpy cervix is being bludgeoned with three thick drags of one strawberry-ruby tip. He’s fisting his other matchingly swollen length with fat fingers, thumbing down those lightning bolted veins mouth-wateringly. “Don’t tell me yer tappin’ out ngh- already?”

Your mewls come out candied and so, so needy. Bonelessly jittery arms curling around Sukuna’s thick neck, to jerk your hips mere sultry inches down his soppily glazed shafts. “I-I’m- not- I was just…”

“And now yer fuckin’ running away.” He’s drawling out, and oh, you could tell that he was enjoying this. Monstrous mouth on his stomach spilling out a few greedy puddles of saliva at that oh-so-desperate pout on your face. Grinning. “Can’t talk but- ya can ah- run away? Where are ya going, huh? Lemme escort ya, brat.”

Before you can even blink, he’s baring you with such a feral grin. Plumpish lips pulled back to show off those elongated canines, rumbling snickers shooting out from between them the very moment Sukuna’s curling a staggering arm around the small of your back. Hard.

Crushing you against the sweat-simmers mountains of his cushiony pecs, you’re at the perfect deepened angle for his second mouth to just dote on the weep tip of your clit. 

“Sh-shit-” Your head tumbles airily backwards at the roughened smooch of his oversized tastebuds down your neglected clit, so hot and greedy that it makes you see stars. Mumbles slurring with every syllable, “Kuna i-it feels so good-”

“Well, duh.” Sukuna has no qualms rolling those glowingly demon-red eyes, plumpened cock swiping copious syrupy dewdrops around and around your puckered hole. “Dunno why ya think of all this- ngh! fuck- stupid shit…Ya really think I make jus’ anyone ah- feel like this?”

You’re huffing, knowing exactly the stupid conversation that got you here. “Not m-my fault- everyone in your court is always trying to be ngh! fuuuck- a-all over you and I just got a little jeal-”

“No shit, woman.” Fuck- you should’ve expected the punishing little pinch of his plushy fingerpads around your beaded nipples. And Sukuna can only tut, “Gettin’ jealous over low-lives for ngh- what? How m’I gonna get that cute lil’ brain of yours to f-finally understand, hm?”

And it’s like he was trying to drill that idea into you. In many ways.

Sukuna’s letting a third of his massive palms pucker up your swollen pussylips. Lecherously so.

Dancing his heated fingertips up and down up and down those saturatedly puffed-up edges before letting the hefty hilt of his stacked shaft fall in a weighty smack! Once. Just enough to make you sound out a shocked yelp at the messy French snog of his second cock down your treacly slit.

Slow and languid - the complete opposite of how vigorously he was now filling you up with those exact inches. “My jealous girl- ngh- one’s not ‘nough, right? Good thing your Kuna has two.”

Yeah, his size was incredible. 

Your parted lips couldn’t stop quivering, couldn’t stop streaming out geysers of cockdrunk spit at just how close you felt to bursting. 

Because his girths were plugging you mind-numbingly full, thumping veins massaging in sweet little glissades down the most treasured sweet spots of your walls. Two of Sukuna’s fingers dip downwards to spread your bulging lips, using every ounce from years upon years of battle just to buck. Up, up, up-

“Sh-shit—” he’s hissing underneath his headily cloudy breath, jaw clenching at the velvety slide of himself stuffing you doubly full. And if Sukuna thought that he wasn’t handling this well, then he wasn’t ready to gaze with glazed eyes up at you. “So- tight. Look at that bulge. Feelin’ full, brat?”

Yes. You could almost sob, pulling on those bubblegum curls at the base of Sukuna’s neck when he’s only pivoting to sink in even deeper. Yes yes yes yes-

“Good. G-gonna make a biiiig mess- here-” You’re whimpering brokenly at the sharp throb of one index of his probing about halfway down your tummy, where Sukuna’s sweltering hot tips were scouring. “-maybe then ya won’t forget who’s yours.”

“M-mine?” You’re blinking your droopy eyes up at him, and shit- he can feel his regal cheekbones burn at the pretty sight.

Drooly little squelches are wafting off from underneath you after every battering ram of an innocent peck up into your goopy depths. And Sukuna only matches the slurping sounds back up above when he latches his lips onto yours.

“Kiss me- kiss me proper.” Your maw dangles open drunkenly with a prying tug from one of his thumbs, “Lick-” And it’s so fucking filthy that you can feel your slobbering pussy lacquer with another candied wave of slick, flooding between your legs and helping you slip and slide in lewd gyrations of his lap. A mess that his excess mouth gladly laps up. “Spit.”

You do - letting the gleaming thick wad splatter onto Sukuna’s eagerly awaiting tongue and lather his mouth even wetter. And you right along with-

With your orgasm taking you by surprise - fuck. Right at the moment your dripping cunt pecks his twin hilts. 

You hadn’t even noticed the way it was building up and up and up- not until you’re letting your eyes sprint to the sluggish back of your head with a moan. 

“I-I’m-” Barely able to stutter out, stomach piling hotly with the shockwave of your high and the pleasurably liquidly masses of Sukuna’s buttery pre. Even more as he watched you fall apart. “-cumming—!”

“I know I know, nasty girl. Fuckin’ filthy.” He’s planting heavy-duty pound after pound to permanently brand all those spots, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere with the rounded circumference of his bloated cockheads. Swiping off those miniscule splatters of remnants, grumbling - with such a content smile. “Gotta work on your h-heh aim, though. Notice anything, brat?” 

Notice? What was there to notice? You muse you could barely even think - barely even breathe with the way that your mind was still jolted with your orgasm. With the way that Sukuna’s bustling cocks were stretching your gluey walls permanently open and-

Oh.

Oh.

That’s when your lust-filmed eyes see it - the tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary to see Sukuna with a cursed marking on his tongue, but what came right after was what had you gasping…your name. Inked right on his flesh.

“Next time ya get- tch…jealous, m’ngh- tattooing your name here-” Drifting down his clawed digits from your hips and over to his own. And then up to his heart. He was dead serious. Planting your agape mouth with a sappy kiss, “-and fuckin’ ya in front of the whole court, my silly human.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Casual?!

Sure, this arrangement with you was supposed to be casual but…one simple hangout with friends later and Ino Takuma knows you’re the only one he’d ever want to see walk down that damn aisle. He knows.

Because you’ve got your trembly legs practically padlocked greedily around the slender curve of his toned waist, your slobbery folds greedily drooling down every curvaceous inch of him. And oh, he can’t help but let off a quiet whine at the grumpy furrow in your brows, “W-wan’ more, Taku–!”

More. 

More. 

More more more that made his peachy-pink tip drivel out a few slippery douses of pre down your rubbery walls like your favorite sort of icing. Only adding to the complete and utter mess he’d already made-

“Are ya sure?” Ino’s drawling out, mean hips angling to skim just past the bruised and battered orifice of your g-spot. Slowly puckering up in a French kiss against your cervix, he’s catching a thumb down the eager globs of cum from just before that were now sloshing out of you. Teasing it into his mouth, “Yer already so f-full, pretty- Hmmmm, maybe we should just hngh- rest now-”

Ah, he knew exactly what would happen.

Exactly how it would only take three curls of his fat thumb up and down the lustrous layers of buttery seed that were staining your puffy pussylips for you to snap. To let out a cloudy pant of swears before planting your quivering feet flat on the plush mattress and flip the two of you over. 

Ino’s leaving a stinging spank once the mound of your ass rests right up against the tight curve of his rounded balls, slobbering a glossy snail trail all over his heated skin in a way that make him groan. “Ohhh, love it when yer rough w’me like this.”

“Just one more…” He’s not even sure if you knew just how lethal that pout of yours was, fingers digging into his scalp to pull on his silky chestnut locks. And Ino lets you. Fuck- he lets you. “Want to be s-sure that next time, everyone knows you’re mine.”

Oh. Ino can feel his neat brows raising, hips rummaging upwards into your gluey depths with a mindless slam! “Holy shit. I-is that what this is- you’re ngh- jealous?” Latching onto the pivoting motions of your hips, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Indeed, and who knew that a flirty waitress would leave you fucking the sanity out of him like this. 

Ino’s finding himself keening at the smaller digits of yours staking your nails and your claim all over his pretty tawny hair, his throat, his pecs. Marks upon marks upon marks-

“Hah- fuuuuck- you jus’ feel so ngh- good, baby—” you’re practically purring, jerking your hips to mush his fattened mushroom tip into your sweetest spot with practice. Up and down and Ino can’t look away. “Makes me wanna k-keep ya all to myself.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s quirking up one brow, and you can’t help but find it so rawly sexy the way he does it. “S’that what you hngh- want? Wanna keep me until ya-” Both of you hissing when he’s grazing his soft fingertips across the creamy wads of cum spilling from your soppy slit. Before pushing it back in- “-until ya milk me dry, pretty?”

He was always so mean with his mouth - but the way that Ino was arching his spine the perfect curvature off of the drenched sheets was even meaner. 

Choking out through long, unsteady heaves of his pronounced pecs, “Shit, greedy girl. D-don’t know if I even can cum anymore, y’know?”

“Just one more?”

“Dammit…dammit! Ya know I can’t- ah- resist ya.” He’s tutting, “Just oooone more for m’girl?”

Deep, vulgar strokes plap! plap! plapping! against your own sloppy staccato. Vicious. Hard enough that the excess ribbons of cum smear and sludge all inside your tight entrance. It feels so completely lecherous that you don’t even hesitate before craning one set of fingers behind your back to graze over his puckered ballsack.

Tender touch making Ino’s jaw drop with a whine -  a whine. 

“Y-you vixen–” Soft hair splaying out across the pillowcase like a halo when he’s throwing his head alllll the way back, matching the way his eyes slide behind until all you can see are those ivory whites. “Fucking take it then, always ruinin’ me with this p-pretty pussy o’ yours.”

“S’that so?” You’re musing, teeth sinking into the tender spot right at his left earlobe. And Ino’s face is so sweaty and flushed nuzzling into yours, streaked with a cherry-red blush that looks oh-so-cute. “No need to be shy about it, Taku–” 

“F-fuuuck- don’ say my ngh- name like that.” And there’s something in the way he giggles all pussydrunkenly, “Gonna make me- cum again- Fuuuck, only you could m-make me like this.”

Oh?

So very drunk off of you and the clingy smooches your sloppy cunt was leaving on his rock-hard length that he just couldn’t stop babbling. Faster. Couldn’t stop running his kiss-bruised mouth with every thwacking thrash! against your magical spots, dotting gumdrops of dangerous pre with every single jackhammer. Sloppier. 

And that smile on your face is heavenly. “Say that again, baby?” But your words are devilish.

As if to whisper his deepest darkest secrets in hoarse, breaking whimpers into your ear, Ino’s curling his dextrous inches of fingers around your throat. Hauling you greedy centimeters closer until his heady breath was bouncing in warm puffs off of your features, in awe taking you in. Drooling. Blushing. Syllables drowning in embarrassment, “Only you can ah- fuck me stupid like this- o-only you…m’yours.”

“Gonna hafta let hngh- everyone know then-” you’re humming, voice so silky smooth but Ino’s ruddied cock could feel the sweltering hot gushes as you only got wetter. “-I’ll be ah- showing you off then-”

“Mhmm– yeah- yeah, whatever you say, sweetness.” He’s sighing underneath his breath when your bounces only grow more vicious. “Proper name, place name…backtory stuff.” Face drooping into the strained crook of his neck and- oh.

And then you bite him and Ino thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

With you, straddling him right then and there like the angel you are. Your needy pussy swallowing up torrential ounces and ounces and ounces of his ribbony cum. The sappy masses mixing and meshing with the already-filthy puddle that he’d made before.

There’s just so much spilling from that strawberry pink divot peaking at his crownhead, that Ino’s entire body hunches over. Sweat-dampened forehead sticking to yours, shivers sprinting down his spine to where he was maintaining a vice-like grip plugging you full of his swirling cum.

Bleeding into his words when he’s muttering up at you through long, fluttering lashes, “C-can we hold hands when we go out now?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - WEAK

“M’not weak.” He’s spitting out, long snowy lashes fluttering with every sheeny glissade of your puckered pussy lips rovering up and down his achy, overused cock. Up and down up and down up and- “So ngh- m-mark me up.”

And it was just about the only thing that Gojo Satoru wanted - the only thing he yearned for - right after proving to you and everyone else that he was yours. 

He’d just finished smearing your prettily puckered lips with a thick lipstain of sappy cum, before manhandling you on top of him to ride him for hours and hours and hours. You’re so gorgeous milking his fucking soul, with Gojo’s own velvety blindfold dangling off of your neck.

Planting a long, exaggerated snog of his plump rosy lips on your sodden mouth, Gojo’s pulling away with a dramatic pout. “Wan’ to show them how the ah- strongest fucks. For everyone t-to know how well you- hngh!”

You’re proving exactly his point with a clingy clench of your glutinous walls hugging his rummaging cockhead. Slipping and sliding between his leaky mushroom tip between your saturated lips oh-so-easily with just how soaked you were.

With a stinging smack! of his slender, six-inch fingers onto the arched curve of yours ass, Gojo’s helping your bulging lips swallow up every one of his fucking inches. Greedily. 

“Why?” You’re huffing out a clouded pant, hitting Gojo’s playfully loving features. Words taking on a whiny tone that you only ever saw used by your boyfriend himself, “S-so that even more girls could flirt with you when m’right ngh- there-”

Swat!

Once. Twice. Thrice until Gojo was sure that your sharp mouth was reduced to flooding with nothing but needy whines at his punishing little thwacks. 

Reminding you of how he’d turned down anyone and everyone else that flocked to him.

You can only watch when he’s curling one big, beefy forearm around the pivoting small of your back. Sapphire eyes rolling up at you, “Girl, as much as I hah- looove that feisty hngh- mouth o’ yours. You think just anyone s’gonna make the st-strongest theirs?”

Before you can answer, he’s swabbing out a caramelized wad of translucent saliva, dipping down to your neglected clit and leaving off a pressurized spank.

“Silly lil’ thing. The answer is- no-” He’s humming away, like he wasn’t just driving your body oh-so-feral right about now. Prattles of praises dripping with every dousing dab of his globular tip opening up your gooey depths, “-so no complainin’ now, my girl.”

And it was so true.

With a few copious more kisses lingering on your tongue, Gojo’s blessing your tastebuds with a wet thwack! of his drooly saliva. Pecking away the overspilling spatters beading at the corners of your lips, “See how well ya take it? So no need ta get ngh- jealous, sweetheart.”

And maybe it was high time that you’re asking for a break, high time that you’re breathing in heaving gulps of air to try and organize your dazed mind. 

But the only thing you find yourself doing is carressing your palms to give Gojo’s bulging pecs a good firm squeeze. Digging your nails into the plush muscle in a way that makes his nose crinkle with a whimper.

“C-can’t help it, Toru–” Head throwing back with the roaring pap! of his clammy skin sticking to yours with each bounce, you’re stuffing your snug cunt so unbearably full with his massively large inches. And it only makes you want more more more- “-you’re just so pretty…”

Oh.

“Yeah?” Gojo’s letting his head splay-out into the pillow with a woozy grin smeared all over his ruined features. One set of his biceps rippling when he’s resting it sexily behind him, the other twitching when he’s curling one finger underneath the blindfold at your neck and dragging you until you’re mere sultry inches away. “Ya think m’pretty, huh?”

Your blood curdles in your vein with embarrassment at what you’d just babbled away cockdrunkenly - what you were still babbling out. “Y-yes. Unfairly pretty.”

Fuck, Gojo was just twitching his bulked rotund tip into your goopiest depths. Still so sensitive. Earning you a low whine puffing from between his lips, and the sweetest of kisses against that tender g-spot. 

“H-heh…” And if you were in a better state of mind, you’d have sworn that the great Gojo Satoru’s suave voice trembled with such an obvious crack. “M’gonna marry ya- I swear.”

And that massive diamond ring bunched up in his drawer to be mentioned later, you’re feeling the burning sting of his pampered fingernails raking bruising lines down the curvaceous arch of your spine. The sheer bend of it sending Gojo licking his lips, eyes craning to admire the bumpy pathways of his perfect work.

You’re hissing your own crescents drawing the very same thing all over Gojo’s Herculean front the very moment his jackhammers get too much. Strawberry red lines against his peachy flush. Plummy split-end probing deeply into all your treasure trove of geysers that it felt like just the slightest bit of recoil parting your gluey flesh made him mad. 

“Ohhh, girl-” The smile you’re bared with is so wild - unrestrained. Showing off his sharpened canines like such an animal, drooling and gleaming with mouth-watered sap. Breaths staggering out in hot pants, “-the way you hah- stake your claim on me is sooo sexy. Because m’yours, huh?” 

And maybe if this was any other time then you’re sure you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’re hurtling into your orgasm headfirst with just those words and the bruising twang of his fingers pinching your clit.

Yet, it feels so good - Gojo Satoru was always the best at whatever he did. 

And right now you can feel your throat burn with the wrenching call of Toru— your hips stuttering down into his almost-thunderously. Riotous, vicious drags to plumpen your favorite spots with the curved angle of his thick cock, so drag out your high for far too long-

But Gojo wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.

Not until spearheading few determinedly roughened thrashes up into your soppy cervix with a gritted slash of his mouth. 

“Yeah yeahh- y-you can handle it, girlie-” Swab after swab after swab that made your second and third orgasms cash into one. “Gotta s-suck me ngh- dry now, m’kay? Make aaaaall of Toyko lose their fuckin’ electrcity- ah- instead of worryin’ that pretty lil’ head with stupid things. Okay?” Final, heaving slopes of his thrusts- “Gotta take eeeverything th-this big cock takes like a champ, m’kay? Because it’s all yours heh…”

And then you’re milking him and you’re milking him until he’s gone. Ruined. 

The strongest reduced to nothing but a lecherous mess of whimpers and feral twitches of his ruby-red tip. Flooding your poor cunt over and over with waterfalls of his creamy sap, so fucking overstimulated that he can feel his footfalls planting down firmly on the mattress. Eyes watering, spine hunching-

CRACK!

Ah, Gojo’s cracking his leaky lids open to a dim bedroom, air murky with sex and buzzing jujutsu. Exactly how he wanted it - for everyone in every ward of Tokyo to know who made him feel this way. So good. To know how he was yours.

Gojo looks up at you, cock jerking ever-so-slightly at your heaving figure straddling him and oh, he’s in love. “Let’s take out the lights in all of Japan this time.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Soulmates.

“Cummin’ on my haaaah- cock for the fourth time and still not ‘nough?” And perhaps for the first time ever in his life, the ever-stoic Higuruma Hiromi sounded breathless. Words hitching into a needy lilt of his voice, “-still want fuckin’ more, greedy girl?”

Yes. The answer was yes yes yes yes - and it was bleeding into your every action. 

Steadying your precarious hands on the cool mahogany plane of his office desk. Important law documents rustle and fall with every single motion of your hips pivoting backwards against Higuruma’s toned ones, wrenching out resounding paps! of clammy skin-on-skin. Saturated lips puckering up around every solid, girthy inch he could give, “...J-jus’ want you, Hiromi.”

“Hm, s’that right, angel?” Planting a sudden spank of his thick digits down onto the jiggling mound of your ass. And if you crane your head over your shoulder just right, you’d catch that simpering dimple at the end of his curling grin. “Such a needy girl- bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh?”

And- shit, Higuruma wasn’t expecting his lovely angel to actually nod. 

To let your head tumble up and downwards like you were out of control, mewling out affirmative yeses.

Without a second thought, he’s tugging the tattered rest of your tight silken skirt cleanly off. Engulfing palms smoothing over your stinging flesh and spreading your puffed-up pussy lips so wiiidely agape.

Your squirmy hips are being pinned down with one of his strong arms, and the forever-deepening angle of Higuruma hiking up a singular thick thigh. Neat black garter only digging into his supple leg muscles and making them look even bigger. “Take this fuckin’ cock now- no need to be shy.”

What a pretty sight.

Of your sheen-slicked folds struggling and yearning to take up more more more of him. Slobbering out sweltering hot geysers of sickly sweet slick that drizzle between his digits and down to that neat, black happy trail. You were so needy right now and Higuruma has never loved anything more - well, other than his love for simply you, of course. 

“Not a single ngh- inch left- hah- ya really are made f’me, huh? All this for jus’ me?” He’s hissing out over the knocking thuds of your knees bumping into the wooden furniture with each pressurized thrust. But of course, Higuruma couldn’t have that- bending his legs with a grunt to lift your own boneless limbs ever-so-slightly midair. And you take it so fucking well- “M-maybe I hafta make ya ngh- jealous of overtime more often.”

You’re mumbling, “Hiromi—”

For which you’re shut up by the pads of his rounded fingertips rolling over your pulpy clit with a patterned heart. “Kidding- kidding, angel. But I wouldn’t s-say no to ya barging in my office n’ takin’ this fucking cock more ah- often.”

Pump and pump of his vigorous shaft, you feel like you can only perch your hips higher and take it. 

All the while Higuruma’s babbling away pussydrunkenly like he doesn’t even realize it - and he doesn’t. He can’t. The only thing running through his saccharine sweet mind being you you you-

“Awww, nothin’ for ya to be worried about, dear–” Those overstimulated pearls of wet tears gathering at your droopy eyes are lazily wafted away by one of Higuruma’s thumbs. “M’a married fuckin’ man- not to my work. To you, my soulmate.”

“B-but–” Your lower lips juts out in a pout that makes his strawberry pink cockhead jolt like he’d been zapped with a million fucking volts of electricity. Mind too intoxicated to really even register what he said - married. “-makes me feel so lonely n’ jealous some ah- nights, baby–”

“My poor angel-” His face nuzzles into your tear-clammed cheeks, and the miniscule bristle of his five-o-clock shadow makes your trembling orifices only wetter. “-my poor, poor angel. Y’know what we can ngh- do?”

Blinking up dazedly, “What?”

“What if I…” And oh, he’s planing over the middle of your tummy, fingers teetering sensual little circles right above where his rummaging fat cock was making such a mess of your goopy insides. ‘-pumped ya alllll f-full right here.“ Just those sweetly tender words in your ear was enough to make your lips part parchedly, as dry as a desert. “N’ gave our little family a-another hah- member…or two.”

It’s as if as soon as the idea is dropped into your needy head, it’s all that you can think about. 

“Wan– ah-” You’re mewling, “Want it- want it so bad. I-inside please–”

Plummeting your hips in an even sloppier slew of grinds against Higuruma’s, it’s no surprise that his sculptured skin where your ass is meeting and smacking into his is angry and red. But he doesn’t mind-

Fuck, in fact, it makes Higuruma even fucking harder. Every ounce of hot blood in his body bloating up to balloon his swollen crownhead even puffier, and he’s skimming over the sensory pads of his digits over and over your womb to feel for that nudge- that little probe of his ruthless shaft into your depths.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He can’t help but snicker in an uncharacteristically sleazy way at just how eagerly you’re nodding, “‘Course it does- my- ngh! good girl takes it all, doesn’t she?” He’s so filthy with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge, even more so when he’s finally uttering. “N’ m’gonna give my all because m’yours, angel. All yours.”

He was fucking you all the way through your high like he meant it - and was driving the very message into both your gummy cunt and your stupefied mind. 

Over and over in such salacious grounds of his bulky cylindrical shaft swirling into your pudgy cervix. Kissing you hello and goodbye each n’ every time until he can’t hold it in-

Can’t stop. Can’t even falter when the arm manhandling you flatly onto your front sags with the weight of his entirely powerful body. Hunching over with a low groan, Higuruma’s filling you up to the very brim. Even past that with the utter viscous volume of seed treacling past your puckered slit. 

It’s so soppingly soaked that you’re feeling your thighs slip and slide past each other with every squeeze, lathered in a sugary frosting of his cum. Packed and plugged safely inside your goopy depths.

Higuruma can’t help but let his heart twist with utter pride at the way he could feel the matted masses cream and knot around his throbbing shaft inside of you. Ready to keep you locked up in here as long as possible for it to take. 

Overtime be damned, he was on a mission to prove that he’s devoted - that he’s yours.

Which is what finds him sneakily tugging open the second drawer on his desk while you busy yourself trying to catch desperate breaths. To steady yourself. To fucking open your eyes after this thorough ruination of your insides - only to see something big, and glinting on your left ring finger. 

A big, expensive diamond in exactly the design you’d off-handedly mentioned liking years and years ago.

Your mouth drops, and Higuruma’s crooks into a simpering smile. “If that didn’t prove m’all yours- maybe this will, my wife.”

A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG SIS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

He’s so cocky at first, smirking when you bottom down on his length. “Think you can handle it baby? Take your time if you need to kay? I know it might be too much f’ you.” He chuckles.

You raise a brow in amusement. “Oh i can handle it baby, can you?” Was what you’d first said. And that question hadn’t changed since.

His lips parted in breathy groans and heavy breathing as his hands find your waist. Lips red and swollen from biting them as his eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly. “F-fuck baby.. you’re— shit, going so f-fast. Wanna slow d-down hmm?”

You smile widely, back arching as you lean down to kiss his jaw softly. Giving a false hum in thought. “Mmm.. you can take it.” He lets out the most cry like moan, head falling back into his pillow as his hips jerk upwards. Body trembling lightly when his eyes met yours.

“Shit— please baby. You d-don’t know how fucking- haah.. how fucking tight she’s grippin’ me right now.” He was referring to the way your snug walls stroked up and down his length with every harsh bounce of your hips. “I’m gonna— o-oh fuck, gonna cum again.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the crack in his voice. Your head tilted to the side as you coo teasingly. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy n cum f’ me baby?”

He chuckles shakily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as his cock twitches inside you. “God i fucking love you— ahh, even when you’re milking my cock like you hate m-me.” His senses were heightened, ears picking up the every squelch on your sopping pussy and his cock feeling every ridge of your gummy walls.

He lost it when you began rolling your hips sensually. Your thighs sticking to his at the mere amount of slick that joined you two. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his girth, turning your skilled movements sloppy as you rut your hips.

You brought a hand to his face, using your nail to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “C’ mon.. let it all out.” You smiled sweetly, eyes holding a dark glint when his eyes turn teary. Small beads of water pooling at his lids before he’s crying out your name.

Overly sensitive cock aching as he spills yet another load into you. Pumping the thick white substance till you’re pumped full. The rest of the substance spurting back onto him at the lack of space.

You let out a moan, “Wow baby- there’s so much. Might.. might just be your biggest load yet.” You were getting tired, but you’d never let him know that. You swear you hear him whimper when you capture his lips with yours slowly beginning to rock your hips again.

“Shit— don’t think- d-don’t think i can give you any more baby. Feels like my cock’s gonna f-fall off.” He panted, trying to keep himself together when he felt you jerking him off with your smug walls again. A small tremble raking through his body each time your ass landed back down.

His hand left your waist to cover his reddening face. Unable to hide the cherry shade of his ears and neck as he whimpered yet again. Choking out a string of moans with tears staining his cheeks when you shush him gently, “‘S only one more baby, give me one more.”

You were the only one with the ability to truly break Satoru if you tried.

[coldcanadianwinters]

Can’t relate because Simon’s voice actually sounds like one of the *most* normal compared to the majority of the cast to me, but also I understand where your coming from and find it very funny

The one thing that kind of throws me about Fionna and Cake is that Simon is the only central character who's obviously doing Cartoon Voice. It's not just because of who his voice actor is, either – like, we know Tom Kenny can do serious, we've seen him do it, but Simon already has an established vocal characterisation from his history as a comedy relief villain, and that's what the show has to work with. Every other character with top billing sounds kind of like a regular person, and then there's Simon going around sounding like a depressed, middle-aged SpongeBob coming to grips with the fact that he's never going to get back together with Patrick – and I'm 100% aware that this isn't a complaint that's going to be relatable to anyone following this blog, because people on this site would love to watch a show about a depressed, middle-aged SpongeBob.

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don��t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, inexperienced choso, unprotected, missionary, praise, he’s very whipped, premature ejac, mdni.

pussydrunk choso who’s well over a hundred years old yet still doesn’t know where the clit is.

not until you show him,

as he’s already starting to feel himself pathetically bottom out, his bottom lip quivers and gets tugged underneath his teeth. he whines at your loose grip that wails out a ring through each of his sensitive pointed ears. through murky blown irises, you stare at him whilst tears of sweat race down each side of his sheeny slick forehead. while choso’s ensnared with the help of your plush thighs keeping his torso secure—he’s panting out puffs and puffs of air breathlessly.

with the way you’re like this—underneath him, locking your legs around his waist, making love to him with your eyes, he’s so weak. “gonna make you feel so good, baby,” and of course, there’s a tremor of a crack in his voice. you and choso both knew he wasn’t gonna last. already, you start to feel him mercilessly shudder above you. your warmth alone was enough to make him a twitching, stammering mess. the fattened girth of his cock stretches you whole and it’s never felt more snug. slinging weak arms around his tensed up shoulders, your wet lips press a chaste kiss against his tapered chin. “ngh, please—baby,” he choked up, your feverish touch and your viscid walls making his brain short circuit. the smooth flats of your ankles runs up and down his back before he slowly tries to start up a stroke or two. but your grip, his eyes widen and his jaw dangles open at your warmth from the inside. the minute sloppy friction introduces itself to your insides, he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “baby, think ‘m gonna d- die.”

“no choso, you’re just about to cum.”

“o- oh.”

you feel him stiffen up out of embarrassment—

a vermillion hue of heat flushes up from his ears and sprays down to his neck before he nibbles at your neck.

nip after nip, he’s savoring your flavorless taste before he achingly pistons his hips forward. even still, he’s trying to thrust forward but your soaked walls were no match for him. there was a fuzziness in his ears and his heart raced quicker and quicker from each individual stroke. “f- fuck,” he swears, leaning into your tender touch once your palms cup his face. choso’s hair was unkempt—instead of darkened raven ponytails, his hair was freely down and flowed down the tips of his conic sculpted shoulders. “baby, am i doing it right?”

“y- yes,” you nod, entrapping his slim waist with your legs. your hold was firmly secure, he’s vigorously rutting into you—mashing his pearly mushroom tip against that spot repeatedly before you whimper. balmy tepid pants ghost against your skin before you feel your cunt starting to constrict around his length. “right there, ‘cho. mhm, just like that.”

choso swallows, tasting a lingering concoction of sweetness on his tongue before his head throws itself back, and oh it’s a sight.

as he’s grinding his hips into you, his pectorals flex, showcasing just how built he really was.

perfectly sculpted abs, he’s got a bit of a few mole marks near his hip.

his body, he steadily rolled his hips inside of you through and through - so good, he’s basically humping you. he’s hot, but to him, you’re hotter.

choso’s eyes flicker back until all that’s shown for a few seconds were pure white. gnawing on the by inside of his cheek, his ears twitch—feeling the individual pulses of your cunt kiss against the swollen crown head of his cock. “please,” he whimpers out a beg. slumping into your chest, sticky bodies sway against each other in sync. “i can finish inside, r- right baby? please, ‘s so much to give you. i don’t wanna be a mess just by myself . . please.”

and every few seconds, he purposely grows quiet just to hear the repetitive sloshes of your pussy. you’re so wet - putting literal faucets to shame.

“you can cum inside, baby. ‘s okay,”

as those angelic words pour out of your lips, he can’t help but lean in—getting rid of the distance between you both. moaning into your mouth, his lips roughly crash onto yours and his hips concur into its final snap.

the bed grew more and more rickety from both amounts of weight - so much so that it’s crying, creaking in pleasure as both bodies mirror each rhythmic movement. his pace was relentless, and by now he’s just unapologetically stuffing you full of inches.

he’s drooling, he can’t help it. all down your neck, it’s a puddle of glossy saliva dribbling down your collarbone and he licks it right up.

“s- sorry, ‘m sorry. don’t mean to be messy,” he babbles into your neck, already broken from how whipped your cunt made him. it’s as if you had some sort of nectar, he was addicted just like that. he laps up his own saliva that dribbles down your neck and he feels your back arch in debleating rapture. your heart quickens it’s irregular thumps as you hold onto his bulky arms, moaning from his thoroughly precise angle. it’s sloppy, but regardless, he was hitting each crevice of your cunt rigorously, not missing a spot. he couldn’t afford to, not when you felt this good. “so sorry, ‘m sorry.”

his broken whispers coo into the shell of your ear as a whiff of peppermint breath wafts against your nose—and finally, he cums.

it’s so much, choso officially loses it the moment he shoots a thick satiny ropes inside of your weeping walls. fervently, your knees buckle and his potent makes him collapse against your gentle hold. it’s hot, milky creamy strings of cum fill into your gummy walls and he’s speechless for a moment. his base gets coated with a sloppy ring and his eyes go half lidded.

black lashes flutter and his face scrunches up in awe - the darkened slanted mark that paints all over the bridge of his nose curves up. it’s so cute, he’s weakly trying to plummet further into your cunt but instead falls right into your chest.

“c-choso,” you huff out a airy moan, feeling his tongue flick up against your tender exposed nipples. a hand of yours rake through his hair, tickling against his undercut before his hips buckle. the half curse silences you with a needy kiss, rocking his body against you even still, wads of cum pour deep down your thighs and he can’t help but fuck it right back into you. with a swift motion, his hips reel back in and his tongue delves into your mouth — craving access. as strands of saliva mix and mash with each other, he sucks on your tongue. “mhh,” and he’s still cumming hard, barred rough hands with a added gentle touch creeps down to hold onto your waist.

choso was hesitant, his big hands slowly roam down your body, calluses fingertips brushing up against the curvature of your beloved physique.

he pulls away and there’s heart eyes forming in his pupils - not literally, but with his lust filled gaze, it just might have. a plump thumb pulls down your bottom lip, and he remains still inside of your sloppy cunt, plugging you full entirely.

with a sheepish expression, he grabs the back of your hand and kisses it. “s- so, um. what are we?”

he’s definitely in love. pussy drunk, but definitely in love.

[simpforboys]

surprise!

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…

warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart

‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3

part two , part three, part four

2020

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”

“Do you have a celebrity crush?

“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”

“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

2021

“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”

“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”

“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”

“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”

“What’s your type in a man?”

“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”

2022

“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”

“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”

“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”

“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”

2023

“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”

“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”

“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”

“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”

“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”

“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”

2024

“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”

“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”

“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”

Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.

Drew Starkey.

It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.

Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.

Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”

When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.

Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.

“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.

“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.

The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.

“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”

“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.

“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.

“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.

You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”

Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.

“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”

You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.

“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.

You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.

“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.

“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”

You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.

“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.

“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.

If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.

But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.

“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.

“Please don’t pass out.”

Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.

Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.

The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.

Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.

“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”

You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.

Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.

“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.

“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.

“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.

“I’m honored,” Drew replies.

You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.

Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.

“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.

“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.

Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.

“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.

“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.

Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.

The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.

He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.

He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.

And nervous.

“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.

“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.

Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.

The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.

You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.

After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.

“You ready?” Drew asked you.

You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.

Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.

It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“So… you like my new song?”

You finally manage to choke out.

Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.

“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.

You nod, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”

You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.

“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”

You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.

“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.

A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.

“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”

You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.

Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”

You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”

Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.

“You too, Drew.”

You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.

By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.

Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.

@/drewstarkey started following you back

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since everyone seems to love my sex shop stories, here’s another one.

Phone calls were literally a game for us. Not all phone calls, but there was a specific brand of call where guys would creep on us. 90% of the workforce at the sex shops was women. So we’d get dudes calling jacking off or trying to get their jollies from us.

The game: make them hang up. We could have hung up. On a few occasions I did, but for the most part we made a sport out of getting creeps to go flaccid. It really depended on a caller.

You couldn’t just go in for belittling them straight off- some guys wanted that. You had to tailor your strategy to the perv. Overall it was pretty fun and it turned an aspect of the job that could’ve become a major bummer into a fun sport. We’d get excited when the phones rang.

So one day the phone rings. I pick up and it was very clearly a young teen who was putting on a deep voice. I was utterly delighted, I’d never had a crank call before. He said, “I have a dildo emergency! Can you deliver 5 boxes of dildos to my home?!”

It took everything in me not to crack in that moment. It was so funny. It was like three kids had walked through the door in a trench coat and the phrase “dildo emergency” was one of the funniest things I’d ever heard.

But I kept it together. In smooth customer service tones I replied, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear you’re having an emergency, but due to the nature of our product we do require people to come pick it up themselves.”

The caller audibly deflated. Some of the deep voice he was putting on bled away when he said plaintively, “But it’s an emergency…”

“I’m sorry, sir, rules are rules.”

He hung up. I burst out laughing and told my coworker what had happened. She said, “I will buy you lunch if you call back and pretend you can deliver something.”

This sounded like an all around win for me, and the kid hadn’t used anything to block his number. So I called back.

“Hello!” This was before caller ID was common for home phones and so he picked up in his totally normal voice, several octaves higher than before.

“Hello, I’m calling regarding your dildo emergency?”

“Oh! Hem hem,” he coughed, getting his voice back into character for me. “Yes! The emergency!”

“Well I’ve spoken to my manager and it’s your lucky day. We’ll be able to make a delivery after all. Five boxes you said? We can swing it by later, we’ll just need your name, address, and credit card number.”

He was thrown by needing to provide info and was silent for a moment then said, “Well how much is it for five boxes?”

“About five hundred dollars, sir.”

He slipped out of his character voice to exclaim, “Five hundred dollars?! What kind of dildos are they?!”

“Just standard six inches with balls, sir.”

This was his breaking point. He started wheezing with laughter trying to repeat the phrase “six inches with balls” incoherently.

“So your address and card info?”

He hung up and I broke down laughing too. We both got a kick out of it, and I won the game twice in one day.

[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.

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[adoringmha]

reading this again made me think of katuski who really just needs your kisses throughout the day. like, it's a part of his routine, and once he adds something to his strict regime, it becomes essential, and his whole day feels off without it.

so even when you're both mad at each other over some petty argument, he can't leave the house without a kiss goodbye. he'll grumble and come up to you while you're on your laptop, blatantly ignoring him.

he stands there, grinding his teeth, as he glares down at you. you look ahead, still not sparing him a glance, and blink a few times in annoyance when he stays silent for a whole 30 seconds.

"can i help you?" your voice is tight, as you roll your eyes.

"i'm leavin."

"okay?" you answer, clipped, silently and secretly cursing at yourself for pushing him away when you know what he wants (it's what you want too). you're just too stubborn, sometimes more than him.

he shifts on his feet. "i'm leaving." his voice is quiet, slightly timid, but still stiff. you know he's pouting internally.

his eyes are burning onto your face with how hard he's staring, a silent demand (plea) in his gaze and presence.

you glance up at him and feel your resolve cracking, no matter how much you want to grab the pieces and jam them back together to stand your ground.

you manage to glare at him for a solid five seconds before you look away and give in. but you're still stubborn about the way you do.

"i'm not getting up." you still keep your gaze away from him, because you know if you do, you'll want to give in even further and wrap yourself around him like a koala, like a moth to a flame.

he responds like a petulant child needing to get the last word in as he bends down, "didn't say you had to."

his eyes glance over your face and he bites his tongue to not say anything snarky to make you change your mind. his hand lightly tilts your head and he presses his lips against yours sweetly, despite the tension (that's slowly dissipating) between you two.

he gives you a sweet, long kiss, it's an apology, a reminder that he loves you, and a goodbye to keep him going for the rest of the day.

your hand comes up to rest on his that's still holding you in place, his thumb absentmindedly running light circles on your cheek. you can practically feel yourself getting lighter, looser.

when he pulls away, you can almost feel the cord of tension wanting to pull the two of you together again for another kiss, but you both fight it. he takes his time letting his hand slide away from you and the both of you stare into each others eyes for a few seconds before he clears his throat.

"i'll see you." his voice is quieter than before, barely a whisper.

you lick your lips and his eyes catch onto the motion. "be safe."

he stands up straight and nods slightly. "always."

and okay, you won't admit it but maybe, you needed the kiss just as much as him. it is a part of your routine after all.