#i repeat i have no way to watch the show these days so like all my writing is au but oh well??????

[pixiexdusts-world]

Seven chances

Min ho Moon x ex!reader

Summary: Min Ho plans seven dates to win back his ex—and it just might work.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I never thought I’d see Min Ho Moon again. Not after the way things ended between us.

The moment I spot him across the café, I freeze. He looks exactly the same—maybe even better. Same tousled hair, same confident smirk, same annoyingly perfect skin. But something in his eyes is different. I quickly turn my attention back to my laptop, pretending I didn’t see him.

I should’ve known that wouldn’t stop him.

“Hey,” his voice is smooth, casual, but I can hear the nerves underneath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I exhale slowly before looking up. “Min Ho.” I keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he slides into the chair across from me without asking. Typical.

“How have you been?” he asks, as if we’re old friends catching up.

“Fine,” I say. “Busy.”

Min Ho leans back, studying me. I hate how easy it is for him to make eye contact, like we didn’t go months without speaking. Like he didn’t break my heart.

“I miss you,” he says. Just like that. No preamble, no hesitation.

I let out a short laugh. “That’s not how this works, Min Ho.”

He frowns. “How what works?”

“You don’t just walk back into my life and say you miss me,” I say, folding my arms. “You don’t get to act like nothing happened.”

His jaw tightens. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

I glance away, out the café window, watching people walk by. It’s a crisp afternoon in Seoul, and the city feels like it’s moving faster than I am.

Min Ho sighs, rubbing his hands together like he’s bracing himself. “I messed up.”

“No kidding.”

He nods. “I hurt you. And I hate myself for it.”

I close my laptop, giving him my full attention. “Then why did you do it?”

Min Ho hesitates. “Because I was scared.”

“Scared?” I repeat, incredulous. “That’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” he says, voice quiet. “I thought if I let myself get too close, I’d end up ruining everything. So instead of losing you later, I pushed you away first.”

I stare at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know,” he says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m an idiot.”

I shake my head. “You really are.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. I should get up and leave. I should tell him it’s too late, that I don’t care anymore.

But I do care.

And Min Ho, for all his flaws, is sitting here, admitting he was wrong. That’s not something he does often.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, his voice softer now. “But I want to try again. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I look at him carefully. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Min Ho smirks, the familiar confidence creeping back into his expression. “Give me a week. Let me take you on seven dates. No expectations, no pressure. Just… let me show you why we were good together.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seven?”

He nods. “Seven.”

I should say no. I should walk away and never look back.

But instead, I sigh. “Fine. One week.”

The grin that spreads across his face is enough to make my heart ache. Because deep down, I know the truth.

I never really stopped loving him.

Day One: The Ice Rink

Min Ho picks me up right on time, a smug look on his face. “You’re going to love this,” he says, leading me inside the rink.

I narrow my eyes. “You remember that I can’t skate, right?”

“That’s the best part,” he teases. “You’ll have to hold onto me the whole time.”

I glare at him, but when we step onto the ice and I immediately slip, I have no choice but to grab his arm. He chuckles. “Told you.”

Despite my frustration, I can’t help but smile. Maybe this isn’t the worst idea after all.

Day Two: The Bookstore

“I remember you used to spend hours in here,” Min Ho says as we step inside my favorite bookstore.

I give him a suspicious look. “You hate bookstores.”

“I hate reading,” he corrects. “Not bookstores.” He picks up a random book and flips through it, pretending to look interested.

I smirk. “You’re just trying to impress me.”

“Is it working?” he asks, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t miss the warmth creeping into my chest.

Day Three: The Street Market

Min Ho buys me tteokbokki from my favorite vendor, and we wander through the market, the scent of food filling the air. He tries to feed me a piece, but I swat his hand away.

“You’re so difficult,” he groans.

“You love it,” I tease before I can stop myself.

He grins. “I do.”

Day Four: The Beach

We sit on the sand, watching the waves roll in. Min Ho looks at me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t deserve you,” he says suddenly.

I sigh. “Min Ho—”

“I just need you to know that,” he interrupts. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I need you to know how much I regret losing you.”

I swallow hard. “You’re trying, Min Ho. That’s what matters.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s still scared.

So am I.

Day Five: The Arcade

Min Ho drags me to the arcade, his eyes full of mischief.

“Winner picks the next date,” he challenges.

We go head-to-head in basketball, air hockey, and racing games. He wins some, I win more (at least, that’s my version).

At the claw machine, he spends way too many tries before finally winning a small stuffed dog. He hands it to me, a little sheepish.

“For you.”

I hold it close, pretending it doesn’t mean anything. But it does.

Day Six: Karaoke Night

Min Ho books a private karaoke room, and I immediately regret saying yes.

“You just want to show off,” I accuse.

He winks. “Obviously.”

He belts out Love Scenario like he’s on stage, dancing like an idiot. I laugh too hard to resist when he shoves the mic at me.

“One song,” I warn.

By the end, we’re both breathless from laughing. He looks at me, eyes soft.

“I missed this,” he says.

I don’t respond. But deep down, I did too.

Day Seven: The Rooftop

Our final date is on a rooftop, fairy lights strung around us. The city glows beneath us, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

Min Ho turns to me, looking nervous for the first time. “Did I do enough?”

I exhale. “Min Ho…”

He shakes his head. “Wait. Before you say anything—I just need you to know. I love you. I never stopped.”

My heart clenches. “I know.”

He steps closer. “Do you still love me?”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I do.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Min Ho lets out a shaky breath. “Then let me be better for you.”

I bite my lip. “You already are.”

His lips crash into mine, and just like that, I know—

We’re going to be okay.

[goldfades]

I think it just makes sense for a little blurb about crash out queen going to the lakers game supporting her hubby

I can def see her going super early to watch him warm up (wearing his new jersey obv) and the cameras follow her the whole time, she talks to jj, LeBron, and the rest of the team bc obv they all love her (LeBron brings up her finals logo 3 ofc) and the whole time luka is playing she’s just smiling so hard and being so supportive (but cursing in Slovenian when luka misses a shot hehe)

anyways ilysm my sweetheart superstar

omg this is such a cute way for the debut!!! here ya go, baby, i hope yall enjoy!!

You get to the arena stupidly early.

Like, beat-the-security-checks, lights-aren’t-even-fully-on-yet early.

But there’s no way in hell you’re missing a second of Luka’s Lakers debut—not the warmups, not the pre-game handshakes, not even the way he walks into this new era of his career.

And judging by the cameras that are already tracking your every move, the rest of the world is just as interested.

It’s been like this all day—your arrival getting broadcasted like you’re the one about to drop a 40-point triple-double. Social media’s having a field day with it. Clips of you stepping into Crypto.com Arena in Luka’s brand-new Lakers jersey (custom-fitted, cropped just enough to sit right on your waist) have already gone viral.

“Crash Out Queen in the building.”

“She’s rocking the 77 like she’s about to check in.”

“Nah, she came earlier than the entire Lakers roster, she is SO real for that.”

And honestly?

They’re right.

You step onto the court before most of the team even arrives, your sneakers squeaking against the polished hardwood. The arena is still quiet—just the faint thump of a ball hitting the floor, the occasional echo of voices carrying from the tunnels.

And in the middle of it, getting shots up like he’s the only person in the world, is Luka.

You slow for a second, watching.

He looks good in purple and gold—still unfamiliar, still something you’ll have to get used to, but good. His movements are sharp, effortless, the kind of locked-in you’ve seen a million times before. But there’s something else tonight, something extra in the way he follows through on his shots, in the way his jaw stays tight even when he swishes three after three.

You know that look.

He’s ready—but he’s antsy.

So, naturally, you fix that.

You walk straight onto the court—ignoring the cameras that immediately start flashing, the Lakers staff who pause mid-conversation, the social media team that’s definitely about to clip this—and step right into Luka’s space.

He barely gets the next shot off before you tug at the bottom of his jersey.

“Damn,” you tease, looking up at him. “They actually got you in Lakers colors. Thought you’d combust before putting that on.”

Luka huffs out a laugh, finally breaking focus. His eyes sweep over you, from the cropped version of his jersey to the smug grin you’re throwing at him.

“You really came this early?”

You scoff. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He smirks, reaching out to hook a finger in your waistband, tugging you just a little closer.

The cameras are eating this up.

Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts through.

“Man, she really beat us here?”

You turn just in time to see JJ jogging onto the court, shaking his head in amusement.

You grin. “What can I say? I like to be punctual.”

“Punctual,” JJ repeats, giving Luka a pointed look. “You mean obsessed.”

Luka just shrugs like he doesn’t mind at all, like he’s actually very fine with you showing up before half the damn team.

And speaking of—

“Well, well, well,” a deep voice drawls from the tunnel.

You don’t even have to turn around.

“Here we go,” you mutter under your breath, just as LeBron himself strolls onto the court.

He’s already shaking his head, grinning, like he’s been waiting for this moment. “New York’s finest in the house.”

You cross your arms, smirking. “Gotta check out the new scenery. Make sure my man’s in good hands.”

LeBron laughs. “I know you’re not worried about that.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, he leans in slightly, voice dipping just low enough for the cameras not to catch it.

“So,” he says, a knowing glint in his eyes. “We gonna talk about that finals logo three or what?”

A groan rips out of you before you can stop it. “You too?”

JJ and Luka are already laughing.

LeBron grins. “I mean, I got my fair share of wild shots, but that one?” He shakes his head. “Crazy.”

You point a warning finger at him. “I swear, if you bring that up in a press conference—”

He holds his hands up, all innocence. “Hey, I’m just sayin’. Big time players make big time shots.”

You narrow your eyes. “I will start slandering your free throw percentage.”

LeBron loses it.

JJ has to walk away to keep from doubling over.

And Luka?

Luka’s just watching you—like he’s seeing all of this, the way you move so easily through his world, the way you fit into it like you’ve always been here, the way his teammates are your teammates—and like it’s doing something to him.

Like it’s settling something in him.

Like maybe, just maybe, all of this change doesn’t feel so scary when you’re here.

And yeah, the cameras are catching every second of it.

--

From the moment the game tips off, you are in your element.

Sitting courtside, front and center in your custom Luka Dončić Lakers jersey—the one that’s cropped just right, snug at the waist, with your own number stitched in tiny embroidery on the sleeve—you are a menace.

And not the quiet kind.

Luka’s locked in from the start, but so are you.

Every shot he takes? You’re on your feet before the ball even swishes through the net. Every time he gets downhill, carving through defenders like they’re nothing, you’re clapping, nodding, talking your talk because of course he’s doing this—of course he’s out here dominating in his Lakers debut like he was built for this.

And when he hits his first step-back three in that gold and purple uniform?

Oh, it’s over.

You’re out of your seat, yelling “That’s my man!” so damn loud that even the bench turns to look at you. The cameras catch everything—you pointing at Luka like you just hit the shot, like you knew it was cash the second he released it.

JJ is dying on the bench.

LeBron, walking back up the court, is shaking his head and laughing because he knew exactly what kind of energy you were bringing tonight.

And Luka?

Luka hears all of it.

His grin is instant, dimples deep, and he can’t help himself—he looks right at you as he backpedals on defense, giving you that smug, knowing look.

Like he loves this.

Like he loves you.

The whole game, you’re in it.

Every whistle, every foul—especially when Luka gets knocked around a little too hard—you’re making your feelings very clear.

At one point, he takes some contact on a drive, hits the floor hard, and you’re already up before the whistle even blows.

“Where’s the call?!” You throw your hands up, eyes locked on the ref like you might actually fight him.

And listen—some people might call it over the top, but you don’t care.

Not when Luka’s out there, playing his ass off.

Not when this is his first game in a new jersey, in a city that’s expecting everything from him.

And when the game gets tight in the fourth quarter, when every possession starts mattering a little more, you’re right there, standing, clapping, yelling encouragement between plays, telling Luka to take over—and he does.

Of course he does.

He lives for this.

And when that final buzzer sounds?

The Lakers win.

Luka’s brilliant—because of course he is.

And you?

You’re beaming.

You’re still clapping when Luka makes his way over, chest heaving from the last few minutes of high-intensity play, sweat dripping, eyes locked on you like you’re the only person in the arena.

Before you can say anything, he reaches out, grabs your face—big hands cradling your jaw—and kisses you, hard.

The crowd goes nuts.

The cameras catch every second.

And you?

You just smile against his lips, because yeah, this is the perfect way to end his first night in LA.

--

Hand-in-hand, you and Luka make your way through the tunnels, still riding that post-win high.

Everywhere you go, people are dapping him up, clapping him on the back, congratulating him. The energy is electric, and you can feel it in him—the way his fingers squeeze yours a little tighter, the way his whole body is buzzing with adrenaline.

He looks so damn good like this—sweaty, still in his game gear, the jersey a little untucked, his chain glinting under the bright hallway lights.

“You killed it tonight,” you say, bumping into his side as you walk.

He smirks, glancing down at you. “You think?”

You scoff. “Please. Like I wasn’t screaming about it all game.”

Luka grins, shaking his head. “You were crazy.”

“You love it.”

He doesn’t even try to deny it.

As you step outside, the LA night air hits you, warm and thick with energy, fans still gathered outside, cameras flashing.

Luka tugs you in, arm wrapping around your shoulders, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before muttering, just for you—

“Best part of tonight was having you there.”

And damn, if that doesn’t make your whole heart melt.

You get to the arena stupidly early.

[quibbs126]

So I finished the last couple of episodes of Cyberverse this morning

If I’m being honest, while I really liked the Quintesson plot, the last few episodes after that were kind of eh. They were fine, but not the banger the first half was. Probably didn’t help that we moved back to the usual cast with Bumblebee, Grimlock, Optimus and sort of Windblade

It sort of makes the first half of the season feel like a weird detour, given it’s like the one time we have a completely new cast of lead characters. Which is also a shame because I really liked this plot and the characters that were a part of it

Clobber had sort of been in the background but she got upgraded to main character in this section and I thought she was great. My only real complaint about her that’s always been there is that her mouth looks weird. Maybe it’s because they felt the need to give her lips. But anyways, Dead End was fun too, I liked his whole tone and personality. So was Perceptor and Whirl (I’d go into more detail but I’m realizing I’d repeat myself because I don’t know how to specify my thoughts more), and at first I thought Soundwave would be a return back to the normal divide, but he grew on me too, and he and Hot Rod worked great together. Oh yeah, Hot Rod was fun too, it was neat seeing his angst and him having to take a proper leadership role in quite frankly a horrible situation. Still not sure how he survived the premiere though

But one of my favorite things was how when the Quintessons came in, it kind of didn’t matter the Autobot and Decepticon divide anymore, they had to work together or die, and every new character to join the group got a grasp of that pretty quickly. I think I’m grasping that I no longer care much for the Autobot and Decepticon divide and just want the two factions to come together. Maybe not every continuity needs that to happen, but this show keeps baiting me with that thought

I liked the Quintesson finale too, even if shit was just happening and I had to accept it. Like okay, Megatron’s seemingly been on a long multiverse adventure and has a Matrix. Alright. But like the conflict itself felt pretty climactic, like it could be the end of the show. Outside of maybe that final scene, saying how the Autobots and Decepticons were now to divide the planet in half for each faction. Like that’s just leading in to something else, even if I think things should have ended in complete integration of both sides (but whatever)

But yeah, then we get the last 10 or so episodes, which feel a lot different from the rest of the season and more like…I guess typical Cyberverse shenanigans? I don’t know if it’s the same or not, but to me it felt like a return to format when I liked this new direction

Like they weren’t bad, they were just sort of fine

And I don’t know, the end of the series didn’t really feel like a series end. It just has Windblade return and join her friends and that’s it, roll credits. It just doesn’t have that climactic oomph to it. I mean I guess I don’t know who would have been the villain afterwards, but still

I don’t think our Megatron was confirmed dead or not though, at least not in the show itself. We see him get his Matrix taken and fall from the other Megatron, but we also see and hear him groaning in pain, showing he isn’t actually dead yet, even if he is dying. And after Bumblebee steals the other Matrix, we don’t see him again. So it’s not clear his state of being. Though honestly characters have come back from worse, like in the premiere when Megatron was left to be eaten by scraplets but was fine next we saw him, so he’s probably still around and able to cause trouble if need be

I don’t know for sure, but I’m half convinced the writers weren’t sure whether they were getting another season or not. Like I said, the ending doesn’t feel to me like a series finale, the Quintesson finale would have fit a lot better in that regard, but I mean it could be fine as a season finale. Still a bit anti-climatic though

I also feel like it was hampered by the fact that the episodes are only 11 minutes long. The other Megatron really didn’t last long because of it. The other Season 3 specials I think got around this limitation with being multiple episodes long, but this and the Season 2 finale, along with other episodes, felt really hampered by this shorter run time, like the plot had to finish too quickly

I’m getting the notion now that Season 1 was the only season with a finale that actually felt like a proper season finale. The other two had one thing or the other that made it not feel so climactic, whether it be the unimportant plot that’s only real purpose is to introduce un-space, or the anticlimactic end of the third one

But yeah, Cyberverse was fun overall. I think it hit its stride in the first half of Season 3, which kind of put a damper on the second half but it was fine. I think the main thing hampering me was that I really wanted the two sides to just make up basically the entire time I was watching Seasons 2 and 3, but that’s probably just a personal thing and too much fanfiction

Also I have to say, I would love a Transformers game in the style of Cyberverse, it’d be really cool, at least to me

[mysimsyuri]

FINALLY got to watch the musical episode !! im now more in love with my partners than i was before . you will always be famous to me jamaican inspector man o7

[indigodawns]

.

[beautifultedium]

Really just want some earrings that look like big fish hooks but not the fake gauge ones. No hate but I would really like to look like I stuck large but regular-ass hooks through my ears

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!choso who is so unknown at school that people go, “who?” when he’s mentioned. you’re pretty sure that only five people knew who he even was.

nerd!choso who is most definitely the president of some club like chess or dead poets society. he saw you at the club fair and fell in love

he thinks he went to heaven when you approach his table at club rush. yuji, although not in chess, was helping choso recruit people since his poor brother was too shy to talk to anyone. you go up to your friend yuji, making small talk with him.

“i’ve never played chess, yuji”, you giggled

“my brother can teach you!”

you glanced over at choso, not even noticing him at first. he was.. pretty. not pretty as in a way your friends would giggle at you when they saw you in a new outfit, not pretty as in the comments you got under your instagram post, but he was a natural beauty.

yuji had to snap you out of it. of course he noticed though, the way you two looked at each other.

nerd!choso who teaches you how to play chess, not letting the two other members of the small club play with you.

nerd!choso who helps you study, helps you carry textbooks, and helps you with midterms and any exams you have.

nerd!choso who has a nosebleed when you give him a small peck on the cheek when he finally confesses to you after months of pining for you.

you two had been studying in his dorm, comfortable with each other as your head was leaning against his shoulder as you two relished in each other’s presence.

“i like you.”

“oh! i like you t—“

“no. i like you.”

you turn to him. a small smile creeping onto your face. you didn’t say anything, only pressing a short kiss on his cheek. he immediately freezes up, his hands turning clammy and sweaty.

“i—uh..”

then, a trickle of blood comes from his nose, dripping onto his cupid’s bow.

“oh my god, cho!”, you gasped as you jump up, running to grab a tissue from his nightstand where he also kept a picture of you two and a bottle of lotion

you leaned in, wiping his nose attentively. as you chide and nurse him while mumbling, choso can’t help but stare down to take a peep at your tank top. he could see the valley of your boobs and the top of your bra. he choked, letting out a startled gasp before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he knocked out cold on the spot

nerd!choso who keeps a special picture of you in his wallet. he’ll be at his chess club meetings, at lectures, out with his family, and he keeps a hand on his wallet, knowing you’re in there.

the picture was a polaroid he took with your camera, your eyes were just out of frame but he could see a portion of your fucked out face, his cum dripping from your mouth and splattered on your cheeks. you were completely naked and sprawled out on his bed in his childhood home

it was almost funny how a hot goddess of a girl was naked, covered in his cum, and sprawled out, pussy on display on his old lego ninjago bedsheets.

nerd!choso who dedicates every single one of his orgasms to you. if you were with him, he’d find a way to cum inside you. in your mouth or your pussy, he’s find a way inside. of course, he’d also opt for cumming on your tits or on your face, he wasn’t greedy. but what he really wants, is to cum inside your cute little ass! he’s too shy to ask, of course, but the day would come eventually

if you weren’t here though, he’d pull up his personal secret album for you, filled photos and videos with shots of under your skirt, through the crack of your bedroom, from your window, when you just walking around with a tank top. he loved it all.

but his favorites were videos you’d allowed him to take while he was fucking you from the back or in missionary. he loved watching them on repeat, never getting bored of them. after a while, he gained the courage to show you as well.

you checked your phone to see a notification from your boyfriend and gasped when you opened it.

it was an image of the picture he kept of you beside his bed, covered in his semen. in the corner of the photo was his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

‘i miss you 🖤’

[sleep-0-deprived]

Dom! Yan professor x himbo reader imagines~! ໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა

Just imagining your biology professor being a total hard ass, rude and unkind to every student he’s ever had and giving out the most excessive amounts of homework daily, as soon as he met you something sinister had awoken inside him. The way you’d smile at him all stupid wearing shorts that showed to much and jogging pants that let him see the side profile of your cock during the first day of meeting you had this man losing it.

Just imagining you staying back after your college classes, you being freshly twenty three and scraping by if not failing every class you took, only making it to college on a sports scholarship with you staring and blinking at your professor all class. Yandere professor, just imagining him watching you from the corner of his eye the whole class, his hands moving on auto pilot only able to think about you and how you blink dumbly at him while he teaches making him speak up “is something wrong Mr L/n?”

Just imagining you getting stuck after class in tutoring sessions all hours of the day because he claims “I’m just trying to help you achieve better [name]” he’d utter those words so sincerely it would keep you oblivious while he stares at your ass and your pecs, bitting his lips when you lean in your chair showing him the perfect peak of your body having this man insane having to excuse himself for a moment during your sessions while he goes and “fixes” the situation between his legs.

Just imagining Yandere professor who rubs up against you grabbing and touching your body all over at any chance he gets with close proximity, slowly over time building trust off of his age and status, him pushing mid forties and freshly divorced. Just imagining him bringing up chats about his golden retriever just to twist your oblivious trust into something else, making you feel special whilst he gives you all the attention you could ever dream of with the intent of getting you all to himself wanting to possess and keep you like a boy toy.

Just imagining Yandere professor who asks you for “favors” claiming he’d make sure you passed all your classes, that you’d never have to worry about losing your scholar ship. He’d have your face in his crotch with your mouth wide open engulfing his cock all flushed in the face with teary eyes holding his thighs. Oh how he almost felt sorry for those poor girls that drooled after you during your games….almost, but having your mouth stuffed full of cock asking “am I doin good E’nough f’you sherr” while you soured your words with spit making slurping sounds just trying to please a good grade out of him.

Just imagining Yandere professor who does random dorm checkups on you, making you stay over at his apartment the nights your frat bros throw parties, not standing for the thought of some sorority girl getting her manicured hands on you, you were His and he’d fuck you so good that you knew it. Two glasses of wine later sitting in his apartment with your hand gripping the counters in shambles “s-ir!” All you can repeat over and over is his name speaking it like a prayer to your messiah feeling a drunken man going at it fucking you so hard the sounds start buzzing together and the over head light in his kitchen blurs under your pupils.

Just imagining Yandere professor who had your legs spread wide open sitting leaned back on his desk eating your ass out like a starving man. Gripping your skin and kissing your pucker, practically making out with your rim and letting you ramble on cluelessly about your plays and strategies, whining about how “the coach is placing me as Qb this year!” While you grip the back of your professors head looking down at him just blinking and getting comfy when you see him having no intentions of letting you go since him being able to work your body and play with you however he liked was part of the “conditions”

Just imagining your grades going from a fifties and forties across the boards to becoming a straight A+ student having all of your friends asking how you managed to swindle that, having your fiends wanting to know your secret while one of them asks “all those time you’ve been ditching, you must be going off to secretly study huh!” Your closest buddy just laughs and nudges you during practice unable to tell him that you’ve been whoring yourself out to the most hated teacher on campus.

[robinsgrl]

toxic baby daddy rafe does something to me. no soft rafe (only with his girls and only sometimes). he’s abrasive and harsh. even more when someone messes with you. yooo where my panties at

mdni 18+

It’s been three months. Three months without Rafe as your boyfriend. Three months of his only title in your life being your baby daddy. There were days where you would refuse to even call him that.

In high school, you loved the sound of his voice. You loved how the palm of his hand felt at the small of your back. You loved that being around him brought you a sense of peace.

Now, all you two do is argue. About everything and anything. Even if you do start half of them. Not now, though.

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business!” Luckily, Samara’s in the living room, her noise cancelling headphones on as she watches some YouTube show, giggling when something funny comes up. You’d usually try and pay attention to her screen time but you can’t when Rafe is in your home and bitching at you.

“So you’re whoring it up when Samara’s with me?” His words are harsh, spitting them at you.

Your eyes are wide and bewildered as you look up at him, chest rising and falling from the intense match you’re having. “Listen to yourself! Whoring it up? Are you from the fifties? Women can have sex without being called a whore nowadays!”

“So you are fucking someone? Who is he.” It’s not a question. It’s a goddamn demand and you hate the way it makes your knees feel weak.

You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, ___, Topper fucking saw you.”

“Topper’s your dick rider.” You spit back out. It comes without warning. His big hand falls on your neck, tightening around you. Your back pushes up against the wall, eyes wide and up on his as he stares down at you angrily.

His face nears yours, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. A shudder runs through your body and you want to shut your legs to help ease the sensation between them but he forces his knee to you. “I’ll kill any man who gets near you, do you fucking hear me?” His words are low and menacing. From anyone else, it’d be scary. It’d drive you away and straight to goddamn police station. But from him? You can’t deny how good it feels.

Rafe’s always been protective of you. Since you two met, he’s hovered around you like a scary dog, growling at anyone who came your way. It grew when you got knocked up in your senior year of high school. And it grew tenfold when your baby girl was born. But it got to be suffocating. You broke it off with him and it took him two weeks to realize you were being serious.

You would never admit that you made a mistake. Not ever. Admitting that you miss him only lets him win. It gives him a point. And yes, you should be mature enough to realize this isn’t a game but he’s so damn cocky about it. The last thing you need from Rafe is a bigger ego.

“Who is he?”

“Eric. Eric Jones.” You admit easily, breath shaky and full of a need for him.

“Did he fuck you?”

You can’t answer. He repeats himself.

“Did he fuck you?”

You nod, hands falling to his arm as his hand tightens on your neck. His eyes won’t leave your face, taking you in completely. You can see it all. The anger. The jealousy. The twinge of hurt. He pulls his hand from your neck and pulls away from you. “Call your mother. Tell her to pick Samara up.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” And you do. Like always, you do as told and Samara’s off with her grandma for the night.

“He can’t fuck you like I can.” You’re a drooling mess as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of skin on skin meeting fills the room. His hand is in your hair, forcing your head back. “Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The moans and whimpers coming from you won’t stop. You try to form words as he keeps shattering your world but it won’t come out. “Fucking slut. Answer me.” His hands trail down to your neck, pushing you up slightly to sit as he keeps fucking into you. Your back arches up against him, toes curling as you feel the building ache in the bottom of your belly.

He groans loudly as he feels your walls clench down on him as you curse out loud, grinding down on him to reach that peak you want so badly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight. He couldn’t even fuck you right, could he? My poor girl, getting fucked by amateurs.” His fingers trail down to your freed tits, pinching at your pebbled nipples. “I don’t care what break you think we’re on, when you need a good fucking, come to me. No one can ever make you this cock drunk.”

You’re nodding frantically, “yes, yes, fuck, Rafe! Rafe! Oh, fuck!” You come undone when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing at your sensitive and pulsing bundle of nerves.

At this very moment, you’re grateful for the house that Rafe bought you instead of cooping up in the one bedroom apartment you wanted when you moved out of his place. You had hated the power he had for giving you such a nice place but you’re grateful now as you moan and yell his name, body convulsing as his fingers keep working against you.

“Raaaafe, fuck!” He’s pushing deep and deeper as he pushes your front side back onto the bed. The overstimulation is making you writhe beneath him, pretty whimpers leaving your swollen and reddened lips. You can tell he’s reaching his own end when his thrusts become harder and longer, momentum slowing.

One pump. Two pumps. Three. Four. And he’s groaning in your ear, his front pressed up against your back as he comes inside of you from behind, your cunt fluttering around him at the full feeling of his load.

—

You awaken hours later to the bed dipping beside you. You had fallen asleep in Rafe’s arms after he had cleaned you up and whispered soothing and sweet nothings into your ear.

“Rafe?” You sit up tiredly, rubbing at your eyes to wipe the sleep away. His back is turned to you, the most relaxed you’d seen him in a while.

You scooch closer to him, pinched eyes trying to take a look at him. A small gasp leaves you as you see his bloodied and scarred hands. “Go back to sleep, baby.” His polo is covered in dribbles of blood, some drops of it drying up on his face.

You want to ask questions. You want to clean him up. But you can’t. You’re not a very good liar and the last time the police came around asking for your help, you almost broke, but Rafe was always thinking of you, his lawyer cleaning up the mess you made with the police. He had kissed and soothed you down from your teary apologies that night for being weak.

You nod, yawning softly, “okay… just… put the shirt in the wash.” It’s his turn to nod, a soft smile on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[cumironi]

GOOD GIRL GO TO HEAVEN

GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . after a long day of assembling a lot of furniture and decorating your new house, they decided they want to test drive the new bed with you.

warning : painfully slow, threesome! satosugu, raw/unprotected sex, humping, daddy kink (just a little bit), praise kink.

w/c : 8k

you and your boyfriends, gojo satoru and geto suguru, wrapped up the furniture assembly just an hour ago. now, they’re lounging comfortably on the new bed, looking relaxed and content. after finishing your shower, you step out wrapped only in a towel, the warm steam still clinging to your skin. you walk over to your wardrobe, glancing over at them with a playful smile.

“so, how’s the bed, honey?” you ask with genuine curiosity. your voice is soft, dripping with tenderness.

“it’s great and so spacious, baby,” gojo answers. he sits up on the bed, his white shirt hugging his toned chest, and watches you approach the wardrobe. beside him, geto moves, spreading his legs languidly as he leans back against the headboard. the sheets fall around his hips, barely covering his lower half. he gives you a lazy smile. “the bed’s not the only thing that spacious here, right, sweetheart?”

“yeah?” you turn around to look at them before pulling out a black oversized t-shirt that belongs to geto from the wardrobe. they stare at you for a moment before gojo opens his mouth. “come here.” gojo says, patting his lap. you look at him and see the mischievous look in his eyes, “i need to… see something.” geto chuckles, knowing full well what gojo plans to do. “you heard him, baby,” he added.

“what?” you ask him, smiling as you refuse to walk over to him and stand in your place.

“i said come here,” he says again, a demanding undertone in his voice now. gojo stares at you pointedly while geto watches with a smirk on his face, his eyes roaming unabashedly over your half-naked body.

“i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you’re planning to do,” you respond, cocking an eyebrow. gojo’s hand pats his lap again impatiently. “i’ll show you when you come here.” geto rolls his eyes with a smile on his face, “just come here, baby girl. be good for us and i promise we’ll make you feel good too.”

“should i?” you playfully ask and close your wardrobe door. “you should, if you know what’s good for you,” gojo demand, a small smirk stretches across gojo’s face. by now he’s growing a little impatient. gojo is not a man who particularly likes to repeat himself.

“unless you want me to come get you myself?” he raises an eyebrow in challenge. behind him, geto chuckles to himself, clearly enjoying this interaction between you two.

“oh, i'm scared,” you sarcastically replied but made your way towards them, crawling from the feet of the bed before settling on gojo's lap. as you crawl over, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in until you’re sitting on his lap, the towel around your body riding up. gojo’s hands start to wander, lightly caressing your bare thighs. you can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“are you gonna behave now, baby?” he asks, his voice low and sultry, “or are you still gonna sass me?” his blue eyes piercing through yours, making all the playfulness on you start to disappear, “sorry..” you mumble.

“you’ll have to do better than that,” he murmurs. gojo’s hands slide up your thighs, past the towel, as he leans in until his mouth is right next to your ear. “say you’re sorry again, sweetheart.”

“sorry, daddy..”

gojo lets out a soft grunt when you call him that, his mouth is still close to your ear. his breath is warm on your neck, “much better, baby.” he moves his mouth down until he’s nuzzling your throat instead. “there you go, being good for me, sweetheart.”

geto has been watching quietly until now, his eyes trained on the two of you as you sit on gojo’s lap. when you say ‘daddy’ his eyes darken a little more, watching intently as gojo turns his attention to your bare shoulders. “you look so good on his lap, don’t you sweetheart?” geto suddenly speaks up, his voice a little husky. “all bare and pretty just for us.”

the room feels warmer now like the heat is starting to build up around the three of you. gojo’s mouth brushes over your shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. “look at you, all nice and obedient,” he murmurs against your skin. “do you know what good girls get when they're being good?”

you close your eyes as you feel his lips on your skin— suddenly feeling all cold and chilling just from his touch, barely. “what is it?” you mumble a question.

“rewards.”

gojo’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to him. his mouth drifts towards your neck. “if you keep being good, we’ll reward you properly, sweetheart. would you like that?” he pulled himself away from you to look you in the eye as you opened your eyes. your warm breath gently glazed gojo's pale skin, bringing a crushed cherry tint to his cheeks. “yes, please..” your voice soft.

gojo smiles, running his finger along your spine, making you shiver, and a soft moan leaves your lips. “see, that’s what i like to hear. you sound so much sweeter when you’re being a good girl.” gojo’s voice is low, and he’s speaking close to your ear again. he moves a hand up, tilting your head till he can look you in the face. his smile is a little smug as he looks down at you. “how about we get rid of this towel?” you nodded when you looked at him, eyes hooded.

“good girl.”

gojo reaches behind you, finding the edge of the towel around your body. he slowly starts to pull it away, his eyes never leaving your face. the towel falls, the fabric pooling around your waist as your chest and abdomen are left bare. gojo hums in approval, his eyes roaming over your body. “there that’s much better.”

“look at you,” he murmurs. his hands on your thighs start to slowly move further up your body, roaming up your hips and over your ribcage, almost as if he's trying to memorize every part of you with just his hands. “you look so pretty, sweetheart. you're being so good for us. so pretty and obedient.”

“oh, you are so pretty,” geto adds, his voice soft as he looks at you sitting half-naked on gojo’s lap. he’s lounging against the headboard now, legs slightly spread. the sheets over his lap are beginning to tent.

gojo chuckles as he notices geto’s current state. “see what you do to him, sweetheart?” gojo’s own hands are still roaming over your body, caressing your soft skin. his hands brush just below your chest, his touch gentle and almost reverential as he looks at you.

gojo’s mouth moves over your skin, his lips tracing up and down the line of your throat until he reaches your ear again. “look at him,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. he’s looking over at geto right now, who’s watching the two of you intently, his eyes on your body. “he’s enjoying himself, sweetheart. he’s enjoying seeing you in my lap, like the good girl you are.”

geto looks you over with unabashed interest, his gaze roaming over your body. “you’re such a sight to see all spread out like that,” he murmurs. the sheets over his lap are tented, more noticeably now. gojo nips at your earlobe, his hands cupping your ribs as he pulls you closer against him. “look how much he wants you, baby.”

gojo laughs faintly when you let out a moan, like he finds it endearing. “you like that, sweetheart?” he asks, his mouth still against your skin. “you like it when i bite you?"

he continues doing it, his mouth trailing down the side of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin and leaving small marks. you answer him by letting out another soft moan.

“you’re so soft,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by your skin. “so easy to mark. i want to see how much of you i can mark up, doll.”

geto shifts a little on the bed, his hands gripping his thighs through the sheets. the tent in his pants is more obvious now, and he’s watching you both intently. “she’s going to be covered in marks at this rate,” he grumbles.

“i’m not hearing any objections,” gojo responds, his hands caressing your sides. he lifts his head from your neck and looks at you.

gojo’s eyes darken as he looks you over, his hands continuing to caress your sides. he’s clearly enjoying seeing you in this state, all bare and on his lap, with geto watching you intently from the bed.

“you look so pretty like this, sweetheart. all bare and marked up on my lap” he murmurs, his gaze roaming over the various marks he’s left on your neck. “and so obedient,” he added.

“i am?” you whispering, voice cover with hope.

at your words, gojo smiles against your skin. they exchange knowing looks before gojo answers you. “yes, you are, baby.” he continues his assault on your neck, his kisses slowly turning into nibbles and sucking motions, marking you with his mouth.

geto watches hungrily as gojo lays claim to you, his hand still tracing lazy patterns on your thigh from where he sits. “so sweet, so perfect for us,” he compliments, his voice low and rough with desire.

“you’re so responsive too, aren’t you?” gojo’s hands wander down to your bare thighs. he squeezes them gently as if testing your reaction. “responding so well to my touch. so eager to please,” he moaned.

geto lets out a small sigh from the bed, his hands now clenching the sheets around his lap tightly. your thigh slightly twitches from gojo's touch as if to show him the truth of his words. “see how you respond so easily to my hands?” gojo continues, his palms continuing to caress your thighs. he’s watching your reactions intently. “that’s good, sweetheart. it’s so fun to see how easily you respond.”

“it’s getting hard to watch,” geto suddenly mutters from the bed, his voice strained. gojo laughs faintly at geto’s comment. “then stop watching if it’s so easy,” he replies, his hands continuing their gentle caresses.

he pulls you a little closer to him, so you’re pressed even more against his chest. “why are you getting so worked up anyway? you’re acting like you’re not going to get your turn.” gojo looks over at geto and smirks again, clearly enjoying his struggle.

“don’t worry,” he calls out. “you’ll get a turn soon too.” he turns his attention back to you, his hands still wandering over your thighs. “right now i want to see how far i can get you with just my hands, okay?” his blue eyes back to you, gently as he drinks on the sight of your pretty face. geto grumbles a little in response, clearly not enjoying his current state all that much.

gojo’s hands continue to explore your thighs, his touch gentle and almost teasing as his thumbs graze over sensitive skin. “do you think you can handle that, baby?” gojo asks, looking you in the face. “just my hands on your skin?”

you hesitate, wanting to feel his lips on your skin again, but you're too shy to ask, and gojo can clearly see that. gojo smirks at your expression and the way you fidget. “what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly, his hands skimming across your thighs. “can’t seem to find your words? what is it, sweetheart?” his hands continue their slow exploration of your thighs. “you want something?”

when you do not say anything he leans over, lips almost touching you as he speaks, “do you want my lips on your skin again?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. “do you want me to kiss you again, baby?” you nodded as his hands moving up to your hips now. he starts to guide your movements on his lap slightly, just little rocks of your hips.

“use your words, sweetheart. you know i want to hear you say it.” gojo starts to guide your hips, rocking them gently against his lap. his hands on your hips are firm but gentle, as he guides your movements with ease, his body pressed tightly against you.

“i-i want your lips on my skin again..” you murmur, your lips slightly apart. gojo looks at you with his eyebrows arise, as if asking you if you're forgetting something. “please, daddy. . . ” you add.

gojo’s expression softens at the sound of you calling him daddy again. he gives you a small nod as if approving before he speaks. “there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” his hands on your hips continue to guide your movements on his lap. “just good manners, sweetheart. being a good girl for me.”

he leans down, his mouth coming close to your ear again. “since you asked so nicely, i’ll give you what you want, baby.”

instantly, a big smile makes its way to your lips, “thank you, daddy. . .” your hand flaying for a second before it lends on gojo's shoulder, holding him for support. gojo chuckles faintly at the large smile on your face, knowing how much fun you have playing with his kink. “such a good girl,” he murmurs into your ear, his hands continuing to guide your hips and rock against his lap.

“i’m going to give you what you want, so just relax, okay?” gojo’s voice is low and soft in your ear. “just sit there and be a good girl… you can do that, can’t you?” you nodded as you gripped tightly around his white shirt.

“good girl.”

gojo’s mouth moves towards your neck, his teeth and mouth on your skin again. he sucks on your skin gently, his tongue laving over the small mark he’s just made. “you taste so good, sweetheart,” he mutters against your skin. “i don’t want to stop marking you up.”

you moan softly, slightly throwing your head back, “please, don't.” gojo nips and sucks on your neck again, harder this time, his hands on your hips coaxing your movements against his lap.

“keep moaning like that, and i don’t think i’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs, his mouth against your skin. he continues to mark up your skin, his mouth moving up and down the side of your neck, his mouth sucking and biting gently as his tongue laves over the reddened spots. by now your neck is covered in his marks, each one adding up like a trail on your skin.

“oh, god,” you moan from the pleasure of his lips on your skin and from grinding on him. gojo lets out a soft chuckle when you moan against his ear. “already getting worked up just from this, hmm? you’re so sensitive, baby.” he continues sucking on your skin, his hands guiding your hips as you grind on his lap. his mouth moves over your sensitive spots, leaving a trail of marks from your jaw to the base of your collarbone.

geto groans in annoyance as he takes another glare at you and gojo. even in his annoyance, he can't stop looking at the two of you and not feeling jealous. gojo glances over at geto, taking in his expression. “getting impatient?” he asks, his mouth still on your skin. “you look like you’re having a hard time just watching,” he teased, blue eyes glistening with lust and playfulness.

“well, i am having a hard time,” he complained.

gojo chuckles against your skin again. “i see that,” he says mockingly, his eyes on the obvious tent in geto’s lap. “poor geto, having to watch us while he’s stuck on the bed all alone.” gojo’s words are almost patronizing, and he’s clearly enjoying himself now, seeing the look on geto’s face and the way he’s straining against the sheets.

“but that’s not fair for me, is it?” geto threw another complaint with a teasing tone, “i want a taste of her too.” gojo laughed faintly, clearly amused at geto’s words. “life’s not fair,” he replies, his mouth still against your skin, biting and licking.

“though i’ll admit, i’ve been a little greedy, haven’t i?” gojo lifts his head and looks you in the face, one hand caressing your cheek. “how about you, sweetheart? should i stop hogging all the attention?” you look at geto, seeing the pleading in his purple irises as he begs you silently. you chuckled at his expression before nodding and looking at your other boyfriend.

gojo looks at you for a moment, almost as if he’s contemplating. “are you sure? i can keep my hands on you a while longer. you seem to be enjoying it so much,” he softly spoke as if he tries to convince you to say no to geto. gojo’s hands have drifted back to your hips, his thumbs caressing your skin gently. “can the both of you just touch me?” you get impatient. gojo laughs again, clearly enjoying how impatient you’re getting now. “look at you being so eager,” he teases. “is that how good girls ask for what they want?”

you wrap your fingers around gojo's neck to give it a open-mouthed kiss before mumbling on his neck, “i mean, why can i have one when i can get two.”

gojo lets out a soft chuckle at your words. “oh, you’re getting feisty now, hmm?” he pulls you a little closer on his lap, his hands gripping your hips. “you have a point, sweetheart. but that doesn’t change the fact that i like having you all to myself.”

“oh come on!” geto groaned in annoyance, “i wanna feel her too, give me attention.” gojo laughed faintly at geto’s words, clearly enjoying his struggle. “i’m not even done with her yet, and you’re already getting impatient?” he looks you in the face, his eyes roaming over you. “and here i thought you were being such a good girl, not demanding anything.”

“what?” you throwing gojo offended look, “me? i'm just sitting still and looking pretty, i'm not doing anything.”

gojo hummed at your expression, enjoying the look on your face. “i know,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs. “that’s why you’re being so good for me. you’re being all obedient and still. it’d be such a shame to change that now, huh?”

“uh-uhm,” you nod, this time hugging his neck as you look at geto who's begun to knit his eyebrows together. gojo chuckles again when you hug his neck, his hands moving up your sides, caressing you up and down. “so needy,” he teases faintly. “did you want to give geto some attention?”

still, with your arm wrapped around his neck and cheek resting against his cheek, you nod, “yes, please.” gojo smiles faintly, clearly enjoying having you this eager and submissive for him. he lifts his head from your neck and looks towards geto. “did you hear that, geto? the pretty girl wants to give you attention,” he says, his tone almost mocking.

geto stares at the two of you, his expression a mix of annoyance and arousal. “about time,” he grunts irritably. gojo smirks against your skin, his hand on your thigh giving you an encouraging squeeze. “you heard him, baby. go on. give him what he wants.”

with gojo’s hand guiding you, you shift forward and move off his lap. you settle onto geto’s now, your thighs straddling his hips. in this position, you’re seated up higher on his lap, your chest just slightly above his eyesight.

geto’s hands fly to your waist as you settle on his lap. his fingers press hard into your bare skin as he looks up at you with his sharp, cat-like eyes. “look at you,” he says, his voice deep with lust, looking at your naked body. “you just look so beautiful, sweetheart.”

gojo’s body moves behind you, his chest pressing against your back. you feel him move the shower-damp hair on your neck to the side and out of the way. he leans forward to hover over your shoulder, his lips mere inches away from your neck.

“you look so pretty sitting on his lap, baby,” gojo murmurs in your ear. “so perfect with that towel around you.” his large hand moves to your thigh, his fingers tracing the hem of the towel that still wraps around your waist. “but i think it would look much prettier… on the floor.”

while you’re distracted with geto, one of gojo’s hands sneaks from behind you to tug at the towel. the other hand moves your hair to the side so that it falls over one shoulder, exposing your back to him. the towel falls loose, and gojo starts planting kisses along the slope of your back.

both of geto’s hands press firmly into your hips as he guides your body down and closer to him. he lets out a pleased hum at the feel of your warm skin against his bare chest. “look at you,” he groans, eyes roaming over your form. “so perfect and so good.”

gojo’s lips travel down your spine, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your back. “oh, baby,” he praises as he kisses a spot just above your tailbone, “such a pretty girl. so well-behaved, as always.” his hands move to squeeze both of your thighs. once he’s done admiring the skin there, his hand moves to the small of your back and gently pushes you forward, so that your chest is pressed flush against geto’s.

geto lets out a low, guttural growl as he feels your bare breasts against his chest. “fuck,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tight you know there’s likely to be marks left behind. his head drops forward as he lets his lips trail along your collarbone.

“she has such a pretty body, doesn’t she?” gojo muses, observing your and geto’s bodies so closely pressed together. he starts to leave little kisses on the back of your shoulders, “so good and soft.”

geto can only respond with a low hum of agreement. one of his hands move to grasp at the hair on the back of your head as he buries his face in your neck, his lips sucking on your skin hungrily.

“so small and perfectly perched on your lap.”

geto hums his agreement, his fingers digging into your hips as he helps you shift even closer to him. “sweetheart,” he says, his voice strained. “you feel so good. you have no idea what you’re doing to me, baby.”

gojo chuckles as he continues to kiss your shoulder, “oh, i think she knows exactly what she’s doing to us,” ge can see one of your hands reach down to grab at the skin of geto’s thigh, your fingers digging into his flesh.

geto lets out another small growl as your hand grips his thigh. a shudder goes through his body. “ah, she definitely knows what she’s doing. such a naughty girl.”

“no,” you whisper between your moan when they call you a naughty girl. geto's nails rooted gently on your skin sending a tingling sensation on your stomach. gojo chuckles against your skin. “no? you’re not being a naughty girl?” he nimbly moves to your other shoulder to leave another trail of kisses there. “are you sure about that, princess?”

geto’s hands continue to dig into your hips, controlling your movements. between the skin-to-skin contact of your bodies and gojo’s teeth on your neck, you can feel the tension and heat in the room mounting, slowly but surely.

you shake your head softly before mumbling another “n-no,” and let out another soft, breathy moan.

“you keep saying ‘no’, but i think your body’s saying something different,” gojo points out, his lips moving from your shoulder to the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “you keep shifting in sugu’s lap, and making these little noises. that doesn’t sound very ‘no’ to me, princess.”

“i'm s-sorry,” you stutter.

“sorry?” gojo repeats, chuckling at the way you’re falling apart just from some teasing. “it’s okay, sweetheart.” geto, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during this entire exchange, finally lets out a sharp exhale of breath as one of your hands grip his thigh again. he nuzzles into your neck as his hands grip you even tighter. “are you really sorry, baby?” gojo asks, his voice just a growl in your ear. “or do you just like winding us up?”

“i'm really sorry,” you moan again, and geto’s hands digging into your hips harder as he guides you to grind slowly against his lap. gojo chuckles again, enjoying the way you’re falling to pieces on top of geto. “are you sure? you sound so needy, princess. i don’t think you’re really sorry.”

geto can feel your body starting to move in slow motions on his lap. the hands on your hips move to press you down, as his hips start to rise to meet your movements. “she’s so needy,” he says in a low voice, to which gojo hums in agreement.

you shake your head and throw your head back in the slightest when you feel your bare pussy grinding on geto's clothed bulge, “s-sorry, but feel so good,” you mutter between your moan.

gojo and geto look at each other at your strangled words. they’ve reduced you to a mess of moans and broken sentences, and it’s all a result of their hands and mouths on your body.

they look back at you, taking in the way your head is flung back, exposing your chest and neck to them. both of them are staring at you like you’re their prey. and their prey right now is at their mercy. the back of your head rests against gojo's shoulder as you grind slowly against geto.

gojo lets you rest your head back on his shoulder so he’s now free to watch the show. he feels your soft hair against his bare chest, and the view he’s getting over your shoulder is driving him crazy.

geto starts to make a noise that seems like it’s a mixture between a sigh and a growl as he feels you grind against him once more. his hands hold your hips even tighter, encouraging you to keep up the pace. “that’s it, baby. keep doing that,” he murmurs.

gojo watches as your body moves gracefully against geto. he looks down at your body, admiring the way your back is arched, the curve of your spine leading down to your hips, which are being gripped so tightly by geto’s large hands.

he bites back a soft groan at the sight of you looking so perfect on another man’s lap. “you’re being so good for us right now, you know that?”

gojo takes off his white shirt before sitting on geto's lap behind you until your back touches his chest, skin to skin as your body keeps grinding on geto. gojo lets his body touch yours, your back resting against his chest. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as you writhe on top of geto. he leans down to kiss and nuzzle into your shoulder as you continue your movements.

geto’s breath comes out in quick gasps as you keep grinding against him. he holds your hips so tight there’ll likely be marks left behind. “sweetheart,” he grunts, struggling to form words between the heat and pleasure, “you’re killing me.”

“oh god..” you whimper.

your hand moves to the back of gojo's neck, holding him as a support. gojo chuckles softly against your skin at your whimper. “feels good huh, princess?” he murmurs into your ear. feeling your hand move to the back of his neck, he lets you hold him for support. he nips at your earlobe and continues to plant kisses down your neck and shoulder.

geto’s fingers dig into your hips again as you keep grinding against him. his breath comes out in short, hard pants, the sound right in your ear. “keep going, baby,” he urges.

the room is full of nothing but heavy breaths and the soft sounds of skin against skin. gojo has started to move his lips from your shoulder to the back of your neck and down to your shoulder blades. his hips are doing the same grinding motion as yours, his body moving in perfect unison with you.

geto looks up at both of you, watching as you both move on his lap. his lips part with a gasp as one of his hands moves from your hip to the back of your head, pulling you down to his neck.

a shiver goes through your body from the way geto manhandles you to pull you down closer. “there you go, sweetheart,” he grunts as he noses your hair and then rests his chin on your shoulder. “god, you look so good right now.”

gojo lets out a hum of agreement, his lips still on your skin. his large hands travel from your shoulders down to your hips, resting right over geto’s hands. geto leans closer until his head is above your shoulder to kiss gojo— still, the three of you keep grinding at each other. the kiss between gojo and geto is messy and frenzied, and so right above you since you’ve been pulled down against geto’s body. gojo moans in response to the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue swiping against geto’s lips.

geto grips onto your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your soft skin. he lets out groans as he kisses gojo, the sound muffled by gojo’s mouth.

the three of you are starting to move against each other in more frantic motions. there’s an increasing desperation in geto’s grip on your hips and the way gojo and geto are now kissing, more tongue and teeth than pure lips.

it’s hot and heavy, and the temperature of the room is rising with each passing second. gojo finally breaks away from the kiss, his breath harsh and strained. “fuck,” he mutters, his hands holding your hips as well as geto’s.

gojo’s head drops down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your collarbone. it’s all getting too much. the sounds of heavy breaths and moans, skin pressing up against the skin, the friction all combining to heighten the pleasure, the heat, the pressure.

geto’s grip on you is so tight you’re pretty sure there will be marks on your skin. “sweetheart, i—” he gets cut off by one of your movements that has him groaning suddenly and loudly.

“what is it, baby?” gojo teases, his voice slightly muffled in the crook of your neck. a small chuckle rumbles in his chest as he continues planting kisses on your skin. “that wasn’t exactly an answer, sugu.” geto grunts as you continue moving on top of him, your body grinding against his. “i’m so close, sweetheart.” he mutters, his voice breaking in the middle. “m-me too baby— oh, fuck,” you nod, moaning mess on suguru's neck.

gojo lets out a pleased hum when you answer, his teeth nipping at your skin. “i knew it,” he says, sounding somehow smug and cocky, even at this moment. “you just look so perfect grinding against him; how could you not be close, princess.”

geto’s body tenses and shudders beneath you. “god, it’s not fair how perfect you are.” he groans between heavy breaths. “you’re going to make me lose it, and we just started.” you grind faster than before on his clothes cock. feeling the warm and twitching on his cock make you moan louder, “oh, god. .”

“lose what, baby?” gojo continues to taunt, his voice soft and yet full of a teasing edge to it. “your composure? your mind? your load? i’ve already lost all of those things.” geto growls and nips at your shoulder as gojo continues goading him. “what are you, twelve?” he asks, his voice a mix between annoyance and desire. as you reach your edge you arm wrap another geto's shoulder while the other back to the back of gojo's neck, gripping on his undercut.

“oh, god,” both gojo and geto murmur at your hand in gojo’s hair, gripping his undercut. geto can feel your body start to lose its rhythm, becoming less focused on movement, and more concerned with reaching your peak. “that’s it, baby,” he grunts, his fingers pressing into your hips so hard you think you’ll have marks in an hour. “keep moving like that, for me, please,” he pleads between his moan.

gojo’s hands on your hips tighten at his words. “that’s it,” he agrees, his mouth back on your skin. “o-oh, sugu,” you are crying, begging to reach your peak when your legs start shaking. “oh, baby, look at her shaking like that,” gojo comments lazily against your shoulder. “she must be right there, on the edge, just begging to go over.”

geto can’t respond, he’s simply holding onto you and letting out breathless “oh god, oh god, oh god” between his pants. he’s gripping onto your hips to push you even closer against him. “just a little more, sweetheart” he urges, “a little more for me. you’re almost there.”

gojo’s hand moves to your face, his fingers tilting your chin to the side so that your face is in his eye-line. “you’re so good, princess,” he coos, his voice a low and gentle murmur in your ear. “look at you. so perfect, falling apart just from riding his lap.”

geto’s forehead rests against the crook of your shoulder as he gasps, breathless. “please, baby, so close, just a little more.” your hip moves slower before abruptly moving faster, pulling a string of heavy grunt and moan from geto. with geto holding onto your hips so tight and gojo’s fingers pressing into your skin, you’re so close, so close and almost there. “that’s right, princess,” gojo murmurs, his voice the only soothing presence among everything that’s happening. “you’re being so good for us, so perfect”

geto’s forehead sinks further into your shoulder. “please, baby, i need it, just a little more. that’s it, that’s it.” gojo can see the look on your face, the desperation, the need, the pleasure that’s threatening to overwhelm you and tear you apart. he holds you so close, his teeth nipping at your shoulder. “almost there,” he encourages. “just a little more, beautiful girl. you can do it. i know you can.” geto’s words become more desperate, his breathing more broken and stilted. “baby, please, baby, please, i—”

gojo feels the moment you and geto reach your peak together. his hands run through your hair when he feels your body shudder and then go limp. he lets his teeth graze the side of your neck as you collapse against him. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he says, a smirk on his lips, “look at you. perfect.”

geto’s hands loosen their grip on your hips as he also takes in ragged breaths. the three of you are now sitting and panting on the bed in silence. “that was hot,” gojo finally says after a moment, and there’s a distinct hint of cockyness in his voice.

geto grunts in response as he lets the three of you fall back down on the bed from where you were still seated over top of him. “i can’t feel my legs,” he moans, his hands still gripping onto your hips.

“don’t be so whiny,” gojo scoffs, but he’s chuckling as he says it. his hands begin their gentle movements through your hair again. “we didn’t even do anything.” geto lets out another breathless scoff. “you didn’t do anything, idiot” he protests. “i did all the work.”

“you both did all the work, to be fair” gojo says, still sounding lazy. “i just sat back and enjoyed the show.”

“lazy ass,” geto chuckles. his hands are now gently massaging your hips where he knows there’ll now be marks from his fingers. “you just sat there and watched, while i had to do all the work.” gojo snorts and scoff, “yes, because a beautiful woman grinding against you is such hard work, i’m sure you suffered very much.”

geto lets out a huff of laughter. “just because i enjoyed working for it doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard work,” he retorts. “i’m the reason she was so turned on.”

“i’m the one who set her up for it in the first place,” gojo argues back, chuckling. “i’m the reason she was so eager to ride your lap.” geto lets out another scoff, a smirk on his face. “you’re forgetting who’s an idea this whole thing was in the first place,” he says— it was gojo's idea in the first place, by the way.

“oh, i’m not forgetting,” gojo responds, and there’s a hint of smugness in his voice now. “i’m just saying i’m the one who prepared her for you.” they keep bickering without realizing you silently took a pillow and hit them in the head, “shut the fuck up! i can't even catch my breath in silence, god!” you groan before resting your cheek on geto's shoulder.

gojo and geto stop their bickering immediately at the sound of your annoyed groan, and they both turn to look at you. they’re too shocked and confused to say anything at first.

gojo is the first to speak. “did you just hit us with a pillow?” he asks, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “damn right, want me to elbow your handsome face too?” you glare at him over your shoulder. gojo quickly holds his hands up in surrender. “no, please don’t!” he pleads, a mock-offended look on his face.

there’s a chuckle from geto, who’s looking down at your face as you glare up at gojo. he pats your hip gently, “you look a little pissed, darling.” his warm hand wraps over you and caresses your back lovingly. “i can't feel my legs and at the same time i think it's still shaking, does that make sense?” you ask, pouting as you still rest your cheek against his shoulder

both of them chuckle again at your pout. geto's hands rub up and down your hips, soothing the skin that his fingers were gripping so tightly. “you’re not used to us yet, sweetheart,” he says, still chuckling. “it’s going to take some time for you to get back on your feet after we’ve given you such a good time.”

you groan as you hide your face on geto's chest. “oh god, we're not even fucking yet,” you let out a heavy sigh. gojo lets out a laugh again, loving the mixture of exhaustion and annoyance in your voice. “damn, princess, look at you already begging for it,” he teases.

geto just chuckles and shakes his head, still massaging your hips. “you’re a mess right now, baby,” he smiles and pokes your cheek lightly. “shut up, i-i'm not begging,” you lightly smack gojo's bare chest before back to rest your cheek against geto's chest to look at gojo who's still sit on the black-haired man behind you.

gojo lets out a scoff of disbelief at the smack to his chest. “you’re not begging? because you sound awfully needy to me,” he teases, clearly knowing what annoys you and relishing in it. geto rolls his eyes at gojo, giving his arm a smack. “stop being a dick to her,” he says with a chuckle.

gojo lets out another laugh, enjoying that he’s getting a reaction from you. “i’m not being a dick, i’m just pointing out the truth!” he says, still sounding cocky and amused. geto grumbles under his breath and pats your hips again. “ignore him, baby,” he says. “he’s just being a douchebag because you’re paying attention to me.” gojo glares at geto after hearing the words rolling out from his mouth. you giggle and stick your tongue to gojo over your shoulder.

gojo lets out a snort of laughter when you give him the tongue. “cute,” he says, his smile wide. “you’re such a child sometimes, you know that?” geto just shakes his head, hiding a smile behind your head as he kisses it. “shut up,” you giggle again as gojo leans closer until his lips touch yours and kiss you.

gojo’s lips are gentle when they touch yours, a contrast to the cocky attitude he was just showing. he takes advantage of how you’re still leaning against geto's chest on his lap on the bed, and reaches over to hold the side of your face while he kisses you, keeping you steady. geto watches the two of you, one hand still rubbing your hips while the other holds your waist, steadying your position on top of him.

gojo deepens the kiss as his tongue slides over your bottom lip and swipes at it, pushing into your mouth and against your tongue. he’s still leaning over your back from behind, one hand keeping the side of your face steady as his other one moves to rest on your thigh.

geto can feel the way your legs are shifting involuntarily from the way gojo moves, and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place. gojo slowly deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your parted lips to play with yours lazily. “you’re so cute,” he mutters against your mouth between kisses, his voice barely above a whisper.

geto watches as you and gojo continue to kiss above him, his hands still resting on you. he just hums quietly, enjoying the sight. gojo continues to kiss you, his tongue dancing with yours at a slow pace. there’s no urgency to the way he kisses you, he seems content to lazily move his lips against yours and hold your face in his hand.

geto is watching the two of you intently, his hands still resting on your body as he takes in the sight of you both. he lets out a soft hum, but doesn’t say anything, just watching as gojo’s tongue moves against yours. his kiss moves down along your jaw and then down your neck, his lips trailing over your skin until he reaches the back of your shoulder. as his mouth touches the sensitive skin behind your ear, he presses another gentle kiss there before muttering in your ear.

“do you think you can take another round, baby?” his voice is a mix of teasing and affection.

as gojo whispers the question into your ear, you can feel geto’s arms gently loosen their grip on your hips. he can probably sense that the three of you are starting to transition to the second round.

his hands move so that they are now resting on the outside of your thighs. his palms are flat against your skin, but still holding you in place on his lap. he’s looking up at you, waiting for your response.

“p-please...” you beg, your hand moving slowly to gripping on gojo's hands, giving him another begging through physical. at your pitiful, “please”, both gojo and geto are unable to hold back a reaction. they can both tell you’re getting needy already.

when gojo hears you begging, he hums against your shoulder and bites down gently on the skin there, leaving a light mark. geto’s hands move gently up and down your thighs as he responds to your plea. “please what, baby?” he asks, his voice a mixture of tease and desire. “please, fuck me..” your words come out breathy.

when you gasp out the plea, there’s another soft chuckle from gojo, and he sucked another mark into the skin of your shoulder. meanwhile, geto lets out a low exhale of air at the explicit request. “god, i love your mouth when you say things like that,” he says, and the words are more of a growl than anything. his hands tighten their grip on your thighs.

gojo straightens so that his mouth is no longer at the back of your shoulder. he’s looking down at you now, a smirk on his face. “that’s not very polite, princess,” he teases. “you need to learn how to ask nicely”

meanwhile, geto’s hands rub up and down your thighs. he’s also watching your face, amused at the way you’re already begging. “but i said please..” you let out a soft whining. gojo chuckles at that response. “i know you said please, but you can do better than that,” he says, his hand still on your face. geto hums, and you can feel his fingers digging into your skin. “come on, baby, tell us what you want. say it like a good girl,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

you wrapped your finger around his wrist that is still on your face, “please baby, i wanna feel your dick inside me so bad . .” at the sound of your words, and the pleading tone in your voice, both gojo and geto react. gojo’s hand tightens slightly against your cheek. geto lets out a low, satisfied groan at your request. “you’re such a good girl for us,” he says, biting your shoulder gently

gojo lets out another low chuckle as you wrap your fingers around his wrist. “you’ve got a mouth on you, you know that?” he says teasingly, his smile still on his lips. he’s amused by the way you’re asking.

meanwhile, geto lets out another low exhale against your skin. “fuck, i love how desperate you’re sounding right now,” he mutters, his hands moving to grip your thighs again. gojo pulls your face slightly closer so that he’s looking you right in the eye. “you want it that badly, huh?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of condescension.

geto is still watching your face intently, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. he can feel the way your skin is quivering against his touch. “you’re such a needy little thing right now, aren’t you?” he mutters against your shoulder before leaving another mark on the skin. you nodded, your eyes practically begging as you lost between gojo's azure eyes. “please. . ”

gojo lets out another chuckle when he sees the pleading look in your eyes. “you’re so cute when you look at me like that,” he says. geto still has his eyes on your face, watching the expressions you’re making in your desperation. “look at you, being all needy and beautiful,” he says, the words a mixture of compliment and amused taunt. his grip on your thighs tightens even more.

gojo leans in a bit closer, the smirk still on his face. “you want it that badly, hm?” he asks again, his voice still teasing. geto can feel the way your skin is quivering and shaking in his grip, your body desperately craving more touch and more attention. “god, watching you like this is so hot,” he mutters, leaving another mark on the skin of your shoulder.

gojo’s hand moves from your face to your shoulder, holding you lightly while his lips press against your skin. his other hand is working to pull off his shorts.

when he kicks off his shorts, geto is now holding you by the waist with one hand, his other hand still gripping your thighs. he lets out another low, satisfied hum when he sees gojo now completely naked. “god, you’re so hot,” he mutters against the skin of your neck.

gojo lets out a light chuckle when he hears geto’s mutter. “i take it you’re liking the view,” he comments, his voice still amused. geto just nods, his lips still on your neck. “you look even better naked,” he says, his voice a low, hungry-sounding growl. he’s still holding you and biting your skin, his hand on your thigh gripping you tightly.

in the meantime, gojo has now moved his hands to your waist, replacing geto’s hands on your hips. his hands are firm and steady on your skin, holding you steadily in place on his lap.

“are you ready, baby?” he asks, shifting his body slightly so that you can feel him even more clearly against you. “yes, please..” you nod, your eyes glisten as you look at gojo. gojo lets out another low laugh when he hears your response. “god, you’re so gorgeous when you’re begging,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.

geto is still watching the two of you intently, his breath hitches when he hears you pleading. “you’re such a good girl for us,” he mutters against your skin before leaving another mark on your neck. gojo lets out a low chuckle at the feeling of your body quivering and shaking in anticipation. “you’re shaking so much, it’s adorable,“ he says, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.

geto, who’s still lying back on the bed, lets out a low hum when he feels how hard gojo is against you. “god, you’re so eager,” he mutters, his breath still coming out in low, satisfied pants. geto shifts his position slightly, adjusting his hold on you. his hand slips down from your hip to your ass, groping at your plump flesh before giving it a light squeeze. the other hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. “ready?” he echoes, his tone low and filled with anticipation.

you nodded, hands gripping tightly on geto's shoulder as you squirm on his lap. “oh— fuck!” a long groan pushing past your lips the moment gojo's cock slowly entering your pussy from behind, fucking you while you on sit top of geto's lap.

geto's eyes darken with lust as he watches gojo enter you from behind. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “that's it, baby. take his cock like a good girl.” his hand in your hair tightens, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck further. suguru's tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your throat before his teeth graze over your pulse point.

“fuck, you're so sexy like this,” he groans, his own arousal evident in the growing bulge pressing against your pussy. geto starts to rock his hips in time with gojo's thrusts, grinding his clothed cock against your pussy once again.

geto continues to grind his hardening cock against your slick folds, the friction making him hiss through clenched teeth. his free hand slides down to cup your mound, fingers spreading your lips apart to gain better access. with each thrust from behind, geto rubs his thumb over your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves. “f-fuck—” you stutter from the pleasure of geto's hand and gojo's dick.

“so wet,” he murmurs, his voice laced with pride and desire. “can't wait to taste you later,” geto leans in to capture your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as gojo picks up the pace, driving into you harder and faster.

“o-oh, god, 'toru. . ” you moan against geto's lips.

geto breaks away from the kiss only to trail kisses down your jawline and neck, leaving a burning path wherever his lips touch. his grip on your hair tightens even more, pulling your head back to expose your throat fully. geto's tongue traces over your collarbone before descending lower, towards the valley between your breasts.

“so good f’ me, s-so fucking good,” gojo whimpering, continues to pound into you relentlessly from behind. geto takes advantage of every movement to tease and torment your sensitive nipples. his thumb brushes over your clit again and again, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“oh fuck— toru. . .” tears are swelling up to the corner of your eyes as geto's grips your hair until you look up and meet with gojo's eyes. gojo's nails rooted on your skin as he keep thrust his cock inside your pussy.

geto's gaze flickers up to meet yours, his dark eyes blazing with raw need. he gives your hair a sharp tug, forcing you to arch your back and push your chest closer to his teasing mouth. “look at me, baby,” he commands softly but firmly, wanting nothing more than to see the pleasure etched onto your features.

as gojo's relentless pounding sends waves of ecstasy crashing through your body, suguru's hands become even more insistent, kneading and squeezing at your breasts mercilessly. he bites down gently on your nipple, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he feels how hard you've gotten for them both.

geto's heart pounds wildly against your cheek as he watches gojo take control, pushing you down onto his lap. he grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements to match gojo's rhythm perfectly. each thrust drives deeper, stretching you deliciously around his girthy length. “so fucking tight,” gojo groans, leaning forward to bite down on the curve of your shoulder. his hands roam over your back, tracing along your spine before sliding up to grasp at your hair. with deft fingers,

as gojo's teeth sink into your shoulder, a sharp cry escapes from your lips. geto's hands leave your breasts to slide down your sides, trailing fire across your skin. when he reaches your thighs, he grips them firmly, spreading them wider to give gojo better access. his thumbs press against your inner thighs, rubbing circles into your tender flesh as he watches gojo's cock disappear and reappear from within you. “fuck baby, you look so perfect taking him like that,” geto murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

geto's gaze fixates on where their bodies join, watching intently as gojo pistons in and out of you. a low growl rumbles in his throat as he observes the way your curves ripple with each powerful thrust. his hands glide back up to your breasts, kneading them roughly once again. geto leans in close, whispering dirty words into your ear about what they plan to do with you once they're done with this.

“ah— i-i'm close,” you whimper, eyes glisten with tears.

geto's eyes flash with excitement at your confession, his hands becoming even more demanding on your body. “come for us then, baby,” he urges, his voice dripping with seduction. “let us feel you fall apart,” gojo added. as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, slamming into you with renewed vigor. geto mirrors his actions, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.

geto can hardly contain himself as he watches you teeter on the edge of release. his fingers dig into your flesh, urging you closer to that blissful precipice. “do it,” he pleads, his voice ragged with desire. “give it all to us.” as if responding to his plea, gojo slams into you one final time, triggering your orgasm. your walls clench around him desperately, milking his throbbing member for everything it's worth.

geto watches, entranced, as your body convulses in pleasure beneath them. he can't help but be moved by the sight of you unraveling under their combined ministrations. “that's it,” he encourages, feeling a surge of pride swell within him. “show us how much you love being used like this.” as your climax begins to wane, geto leans in to claim another searing kiss, tasting the saltiness of your sweat on your lips.

gojo watches as you convulse beneath them, his hands still tight on your hips as he looks down at you. the sound of you unraveling is only adding to his own desire, and he lets out a low laugh of satisfaction. “god damn, you’re incredible,” he mutters, his voice rough.

geto, meanwhile, pulls you into another searing kiss, claiming your lips again. his tongue delves into your mouth, tasting the saltiness of your sweat. as geto’s tongue dominates your mouth, gojo watches the two of you intently, his hands still on your hips, holding you in place. his eyes move back and forth between you and geto, watching closely to catalogue every reaction and expression.

“god, you two look good together” he mutters, his voice rough. his grip tightens on your hips as he watches the two of you make out. gojo is still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath after pulling out of you. he’s watching as you fall apart on geto’s arm, your eyes closed as you try to catch your own breath.

“you look so beautiful,” he mutters, his voice is still rough. his hand reaches out and brushes the hair off your face. meanwhile, geto is still sitting against the headboard, his arm still around you as you try to catch your breath. he’s watching you intently as you recover, and his hand gently rubs your back in soothing circles. “you did so good, baby” he mutters, his voice soft, “you’re so beautiful.”

gojo gets up from geto’s lap, and gently pulls you to lay you down on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. he moves so that he’s now lying next to you on the bed, his hand still resting lightly on your hip.

geto watches as you lie down on the bed and moves over so that he’s now lying next to you, too. he rests his hand on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles in your skin. as the three of you lay there together, there’s a moment of comfortable silence, with the only sound being the evenness of your breaths. gojo and geto are both still touching you, their hands gently rubbing your skin wherever they can reach.

“how are you feeling, baby?” gojo asks after a few moments, his voice soft and gentle.

you give him a weak smile, “perfect.”

“perfect,” gojo repeats, his voice satisfied as he echoes your word. he’s still resting next to you, his hand still gently making patterns on your skin. geto, who’s lying on your other side, also hums his agreement. “you look perfect,” he mutters, his fingers still rubbing your stomach. “you did so well,” he draw another mutter on your skin to kiss your forehead.

there’s another moment of comfortable silence, with the three of you just laying there together and enjoying the afterglow. gojo’s hand continues to gently rub your skin, and geto's hand is still moving in slow circles on your stomach. “can i ask you something, princess?” gojo says suddenly, his voice still soft and gentle.

you open your eyes and turn your head to look at gojo, “what is it?” you ask him, voice soft and dripping with tiredness.

gojo looks down at you as you turn your head to look at him, his eyes lingering on your face. he can see the exhaustion in your eyes and in your voice, which seems to be dripping with tiredness.

“i just wanted to ask…” he pauses for a moment, his hand still rubbing slow circles on your skin. “you enjoyed that, right?” he asks, his voice gentle and concerned. you look at him like he's the most stupid person in the world that makes you confused, “yeah?” you ask.

gojo notices the look on your face and laughs at your question. “okay, well, don’t give me that look,” he says jokingly. geto, who’s lying on your other side, also laughs, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. “don't insult him, he’s just checking in, princess,” he says, his voice amused.

gojo chuckles again before continuing. “i know you enjoyed it, i just want to make sure” he says, his voice serious again. he pauses for another moment, still looking at you intently. “i just want to make sure you’re comfortable and happy,” he says, his voice earnest. gojo is still watching your face, waiting for your answer. “you’d tell us if you didn’t, right?” he asks, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“do you want me to tell you if i didn't?”

“yes.” both gojo and geto answer at the same time. geto glances over at gojo before turning his attention back to you, his hand still rubbing your stomach. “we want to know if you had a good time,” he says, his voice serious.

gojo nods in agreement. “yeah, if you didn’t enjoy something, we want you to tell us,” he says. “your comfort and happiness are important to us, princess,” he adds. you nod, taking their hand to plant a kiss on the back of their hand, “then i will.”

gojo and geto both watch as you take their hands and plant a kiss on the backs. they both smile at the gesture, clearly touched by the small act of affection.

“good,” gojo says, his voice satisfied. “that’s all we want, you to be honest and comfortable,” he adds, his hand gently squeezing yours. geto hums in agreement, his hand rubbing the back of yours. “we value your feelings more than anything, princess,” he mutters, his voice soft and sincere.

there’s a moment of comfortable silence again, as the three of you just lay there together, your hands still intertwined. gojo and geto are both watching you closely, their eyes taking in your every expression.

“you look tired,” gojo finally says, breaking the silence. he’s still holding your hand, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin. you nod, “just a little,” you softly speak before pushing your body away from the bed to sit up. “i'm going to get a drink first,” you tell them. you took gojo's white shirt that he used before and put it on you.

gojo watches as you push yourself up from the bed and put on his shirt. his eyes trail over your body, admiring the way the fabric of his shirt hangs on your figure. he’s about to speak when geto reaches out and grabs your arm, keeping you in place.

“you don’t have to get up, i’ll get you a drink,” he says, his voice gentle and affectionate. “thank you,” you said politely as you smiled at him. “of course,” geto says, smiling back at you. he pats you gently on the head before getting up from the bed.

gojo watches as geto walks out of the bedroom, his eyes lingering on his naked back as he leaves the room. “damn, he’s hot,” he mutters, his voice low enough that only you can hear it. you look at him with your eyebrows knit together softly before rolling your eyes, “god, you're such a horn dog.”

gojo lets out a low laugh when he hears your comment. “hey, i can’t help it if i appreciate a nice body,” he says, his voice still low. he looks over at you, a smirk on his face. “you can’t deny he looks good,” he adds, his eyes trailing over your figure in his shirt.

gojo chuckles and pulls you towards him again, your bodies pressing against each other. “i mean, yeah he's hot but— ah fuck it, let's objectifying him,” you giggle as you wrap your arm around gojo's waist. when he hears you say you’d like to objectify him, his smirk widens. “yeah, let’s do it,” he says, his voice low.

he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer, his hand gently rubbing small circles on your lower back. “his ass is pretty great,” he mutters, his eyes raking over your figure in his shirt.

you nodded, “his dick too.”

gojo laughs out loud at your comment, clearly having not expected it. “god damn, baby,” he mutters, his voice full of humor. “yeah, it’s very good,” he agrees, his eyes still roaming over your body in his shirt. “how’d you fit it all in your mouth?” he teases, using his free hand to gently brush your hair behind your ear. “have no idea,” you shake your head as you laugh.

gojo laughs again when he hears your reply, clearly enjoying the conversation. he moves his head so that it’s right next to your ear, and his voice is a low murmur when he speaks again. “you look so good in my shirt,” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “thank you,” you smile at him as you look up. your fingers run across his arm.

gojo smiles back at you, his hand still rubbing small circles on your lower back. he takes a moment to admire your expression, his eyes drinking in how your face looks when you’re smiling up at him.

“i like it when you wear my clothes,” he admits, his voice low, “it reminds me that you’re mine.” gojo looks deep into your eyes for a moment, taking in your expression and the soft smile on your lips. he then presses his lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss, his lips lingering against your skin.

“you’re adorable, you know that?” he mutters, still holding you close to him. just then, geto walks back into the room, holding a glass of water in his hand. When he sees you and gojo cuddled together on the bed, he raises an eyebrow. “did i miss something?” he asks jokingly, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“we're objectifying you,” you said, giggling.

geto lets out a chuckle when he hears you say you’re objectifying him. “oh, is that so?” he asks, his voice amused. he takes a few steps closer to the bed, a small smile on his face. “anything interesting being said?” he asks, looking over at gojo who’s still holding you against him.

geto walk over to the other side of the bed and hand you the water as he takes a seat beside you. gojo looks over at geto, a smirk on his face. “oh, just talking about how good you look,” he says casually, his hand still rubbing small circles on your lower back.

geto lets out a low laugh when he hears gojo’s comment, clearly somewhat amused by it. he watches as you take the glass of water from his hand, and takes a moment to admire your pretty face before pinching your cheek. “just my looks?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “not my skills?” he asks, his hand coming to rest on your thigh.

gojo smirks again when he hears his comment, his hand still idly rubbing small circles on your lower back. “oh, your skills are definitely being appreciated too,” he says. he looks over at geto, his eyes trailing over his body. “a very important part of you,” he adds, his voice low.

they both stop talking and watch as you take sips from the water, both of them clearly enjoying the sight. gojo's hand is still rubbing your lower back, his eyes never leaving you as you drink. meanwhile, geto's hand is still resting on your thigh; his eyes are looking at the way your throat moves as you swallow.

“what?” you look at them as you hesitate to pull the glass away from your face. gojo and geto both look at you when you look at them, both of them still admiring your pretty face. “just enjoying the view,” gojo says simply, his hand still rubbing circles on your back. “you look very pretty while drinking,” geto adds, his hand still resting on your thigh.

after finishing, you hand the half-empty glass to gojo and cast a questioning glance at geto. “what’s so pretty about drinking?” you ask, slightly puzzled. gojo takes the water glass from you and sets it down on the bedside table. both gojo and geto are still looking at you, their expressions amused by your question.

“just the way your neck moves when you swallow,” geto says simply.

gojo nods in agreement. “yeah, it’s pretty hot,” he adds, his eyes trailing over the smooth line of your throat. you just rolled your eyes at your two boyfriends horniness before placing a pillow behind you and pulling a blanket over your body as you lay down.

gojo and geto both chuckled at your eye roll, clearly amused by your reaction to their horniness. gojo watches as you place a pillow behind you and pull a blanket over your body, his eyes trailing over your form as you get comfortable. geto leans over and pats your head gently, a smile on his face. “comfy?” he asks, his voice soft.

you nod and smile at him before turning to gojo, who is still eyeing you with a hungry gaze. “go to sleep, dickhead. it’s almost three in the morning,” you say, giving him a nasty look.

gojo laughs at your comment, amused by your words. “but i’m not tired,” he says, his eyes still roaming over your body.

“yeah, i’m not tired either,” geto agrees, his hand still patting your head gently. “but, i am,” you mumble, pulling the blanket until it reaches your chin.

as soon as you mumble that you’re tired, both gojo and geto’s expressions soften. they both look at you for a moment, taking in your sleepy face and the way the blanket is pulled up to your chin. “okay princess,” gojo says, his voice gentle. “we’ll go to sleep,” he assures you, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your lower back.

they both eventually join you, lying on their sides as you shift to face them as well. gojo pulls you closer, so your back is against his chest, while the two of you face geto. as soon as all three of you are lying down on the bed, gojo pulls you closer to him, your back pressed against his chest. he wraps his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your stomach.

geto watches as you and gojo get comfortable, a small smile on his face. he shifts so that he’s a little closer to you, his eyes roaming over your pretty face. despite all three of you being tired, you don’t close your eyes right away. instead, gojo and geto both continue to talk softly, their voices quiet and drowsy.

gojo’s hand is still resting on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. meanwhile, geto’s eyes are still fixed on your face, a small smile on his lips as he watches you listen.

gojo and geto continue talking quietly, their voices low and drowsy as they converse. meanwhile, you pull your phone out from under the pillow and start using it. gojo glances down and sees that you’re using your phone, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “what are you doing, princess?” he asks, his voice soft.

“just scrolling,” you mumble, the light from your phone illuminating your face. they don’t say anything and continue their quiet conversation. both gojo and geto glance down at your phone, noticing how the light from it illuminates your face, making you look even prettier under the dim lighting of the room. “what are you scrolling through?” gojo asks, his voice sounding just a hint too interested.

“just some tiktok videos, baby,” you reply softly. they nod and allow you to continue, not really focusing on your phone as they keep chatting. gojo and geto both nod as you tell them that you’re just scrolling through some tiktok videos, their focus more on their conversation rather than what you’re doing on your phone.

“that’s cool,” gojo says, his voice absent-minded as his hand keeps rubbing small circles on your stomach.

after a few minutes, gojo notices that the sound from your phone keeps repeating as if a certain video is on a loop. he glances down at you and sees that your eyes are closed, your breathing slower and more steady.

when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep with your phone still on, a small smile forms on his face. he reaches out and gently takes your phone out of your grasp, setting it down on the bedside table. geto also notices that you’ve fallen asleep and looks down at you with a soft smile on his face.

he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle so as not to wake you up. “she’s asleep,” he murmurs to gojo, his voice barely above a whisper.

gojo nods in agreement, his eyes still fixed on your face. “yeah, she’s out cold,” he says, his voice just as quiet as geto’s. he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand gently stroking your stomach.

“we should go to sleep, too,” gojo whispers.

geto nods in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you sleeping. “yeah, we should,” he says, his voice soft. he shifts closer to you so that he’s a little nearer, his body warm and comfortable against yours.

geto gently presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “sleep well, my love,” his voice tender and soft as he brushes his lips against your skin. he then turns to gojo, leaning in to give him a warm kiss as well. with a loving smile, he says, “good night, baby,” his tone is full of affection and care.

gojo smiles when he hears geto’s soft words, enjoying the gentle tone of his voice. “good night,” he murmurs, his voice low.

he reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. then he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, your back pressed against his chest.

[classyrbf]

pussy inspection with nanami can we have some degradation please and thank youuu 💞💞💞💞

PRINCESS PARTS! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami always has to make sure that he always inspects his pretty princess

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, slight fingering, spanking, degradation, nanami being a tease, pussy inspection, nanami is kinda mean, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you so much for the request pookie I hope you enjoy it!

as soon as you stepped out of the car from running errands all day (the errands being shopping with your husbands credit card) you got a text a from him asking to come to his office. You weren’t sure what the occasion was, but when you finally made it into the house with the millions of bags, you gingerly made your way over to your husbands office.

For some reason you felt a bit nervous. Nanami always calls you if anything important, he rarely ever texts, but you never question him on anything. “Ken?” You softly call out, seeing his office door is cracked, slowly opening it to see him sitting in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. “Hi.” You smile. “I just came back from the store! I got these pretty dresses I think—”

“Come here.” He sternly spoke, his glass clinking on the wooden table as he set it down. His gaze never left yours, like a predator trying to intimidate its prey. “Come here,” he repeated. The silence was deafening bedsides the wood creaking under your feet as you hesitantly stepped closer. And when you got close enough he pulled you over his lap in the blink of an eye, leaving you breathless. “What’s this?” He held up your panties in his hand. You stayed silent looking down in shame. You could feel his large hand rub over the fabric of your sundress, toying with the hem of it as he lifted it slowly. “Ah,” he let out a chuckle, one that had a hit of annoyance.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could muster. You knew we’re in the wrong. Before leaving to go shopping, you decided to wear any panties, but stupidly enough you left the evidence in the room for him to find. He fully lifted the fabric, exposing your ass to the cool air of his office.

“You left the house without any panties on? What were you planning to do, huh?” He swatted your ass, making you jump. “We’re you playing with my pussy on the way home? Playing with in the dressing room? Cause you’re that much of a desperate little slut.” He slapped your ass again, a small whimper falling from your lips.

“No, no! I swear I didn’t touch myself! I just…” You didn’t really have an explanation as to why you did it, only making it harder for him to believe your words.

“No? You sure? You know I have to check, right?” He squeezed the plump flesh of your ass, spread your cheeks slightly to get a good look at your cunt. He licked his limps, swiping his thumb over your slit. “Gotta make sure my pretty princess didn’t cum without me, yeah?” He spread your legs farther before taking his fingers and spreading your lips, watching the way your pink hole fluttered around nothing. He could see how wet you were getting, gathering some of your slick and rubbing your clit with it.

“Ken,” you whimpered, squirming in his lap. He ignored you, slapping your ass again as a warning to stop moving.

“I just have to make sure, baby. I know how much of a slut you like to be, showing off your pretty pussy. You’re just a dumb little thing who doesn’t know any better.” He slips his thumb into your pussy, moving it around and rubbing against your g-spot before slipping it out. “Why are you so wet?” He slaps your ass again.

“I’m sorry! It just…feels so good,” you explain, biting down on your bottom lip. You look back, staring up at him was such a desperate look, only to be met with his cold gaze.

“Use your words more. Tell me.” He gently caresses your face. “Is it this?” He slips his thumb back in, watching the way your jaw drops and brows furrow. You nod at his question. “Words.” He spanks your ass harder.

“Yes! It’s that! It’s everything! I like when you inspect my princess parts, and make sure I’m not misbehaving,” you confess. Kento hummed in response, slowly massaging your walls with his thumb.

“So you’ve been doing this on purpose? Leaving your panties around the house for me to find so you can get your pussy touched and looked at. What am I going to do with you?” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue at you. He slips out his thumb, rubbing your neglected clit in slow, agonizing circles. “Get up.”

“Wha-why?” You asked, confused. “Ah!” He spanks you once more. You quickly scurry off of his lap, standing in front of him and pulling your dress down.

He hands you your panties from earlier. “Put them back on and sit in your mess. You think being bad gets you rewarded?” He scolds you, watching as you slip your panties over your legs, pulling them up. “And don’t you dare sneak off and try and make yourself cum like the desperate little whore you are.”

“But, please,” you mutter. “I’ve been waiting all day. I know—”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He clenches his jaw. You shake your head. “Good. Now, go and grab the new clothes you bought and put on a show for me, yeah? I’ll be waiting.”

[ragingbookdragon]

She huffs lightly when she hears the low growl of the familiar soldier in the room next door, followed by her nurse griping and trying to work with him. Entering behind, she lays a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Go on, Paula, I got him,” she says with a smile and Paula practically screams in relief as she leaves the exam room.

She gives him a fond smile. “Now, Lieutenant, what have I said about antagonizing my nurses?”

He scowls at her. “I don’t like ‘em.”

“I know but I still need you to be kind when they’re simply trying to do their jobs.”

“I don’t like anyone touchin’ me but you.” He’s still scowling behind his mask, holding his side where she can see the black material stained a darker color.

“Well aren’t I special,” she murmurs, closing the exam room door before walking over. “You know the drill.”

He lifts his sweatshirt wordlessly along with the t-shirt he’s got underneath and she sighs at the sight of a cut about four inches long riding up his ribs.

“Do I even want to know how?” She asks.

“Trainin’ with Soap,” he mutters. “‘e’s a slippery lit’le bastard when ‘e needs to be.”

She snorts and goes about pulling on a pair of latex gloves before she begins to clean his wound with antiseptic. He doesn’t make a sound though she knows it stings like a bitch and the only show of irritation from him is the way his muscle ripple beneath her touch.

“I thought I said not to get wounded anymore.”

“Didn’t listen,” he simply shrugs.

“If I had half a mind, I’d assume you did this on purpose so you could come see me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter you’self. I don’t like you that much.”

A laugh escapes her as she checks the depth, ultimately deciding on a few stitches for his wound. “Oh I know you like me plenty, Simon.”

Simon.

She only says his name in privacy when no one can hear them. He hates the way his chest feels funny, sternum scratchy with an itch he can’t get to.

“‘S Lieutenant,” he retorts.

“Of course, of course,” she hums. “My most sincerest apologies, Lieutenant Riley.”

He scowls again but that itch returns when she begins to stitch his wound carefully.

After a few minutes, she sets the clipped thread down and admires her handiwork. “All done, sweetheart,” she says with a gentle smile and wipes it carefully before putting a bandage on it. “Don’t get it wet and—”

“Keep it dry and clean,” he finishes. “I know.”

She laughs and pokes the nose to his mask. “Maybe one day you will learn.”

She watches as he redresses himself before standing, waving off the bottle of pills she hands to him.

“Don’t need ‘em.”

“It’s just some ibuprofen, Lieutenant.”

“Don’t need ‘em,” he repeats with a growl and she rolls her eyes.

“You are so stubborn for no reason,” she says and places her hands on her hips. “And after all the care I just gave you.”

He looks at her for a solid moment before he leans over and kisses her cheek through his mask. “Thank you, love,” he mutters. “For takin’ care of me.”

She goes uncharacteristically quiet, cheeks getting hot and he smirks at her.

“Ain’t got nothin’ to say? Cat got your tongue?”

She glares at him half-heartedly. “Get out of my clinic, Lieutenant.”

As he heads for the door, he pauses and looks at her. “It’s Simon, to you.” He says, and closes the door behind him.

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[seumyo]

another new year with bakugou katsuki.

One more hour ‘til the New Year.

“So,” you started, “we’re about to ring in another year. Guess I’m stuck with you again, huh?”

Bakugou paused from tidying up the scattered toys in your shared bedroom. The gears in his head need a moment to get to processing.

“Hah?”

“It’s just hitting me, you know? I’ve been putting up with you for how long now? Feels like forever.”

A scowl immediately made itself known in his lips, unsure if you’re joking or not. “The hell are you gettin’ at?”

You tapped your chin as though deep in thought. “Maybe it’s not too late to return you to your parents. They probably miss having you around, anyway.”

“You’re jokin’.”

Bakugou’s eyes blink dumbfoundedly.

“Does your parents have a no-return policy?”

His voice dropped to a grumble, and his brows furrowed. He finishes tidying up the toys and joins you on the bed, cuddling close to you (even if he doesn’t consider it cuddling, moreso invading your personal space—but you’re his wife, so he gets a pass).

“As if. You think you can just ship me off like I’m some Amazon package? No way in hell, dummy. You’re stuck with me.”

And I’ll gladly be stuck with you for eternity, he finds himself wanting to say but refrains from doing so.

“Stuck with you, huh? That’s a bold statement, Katsu. What if I do want to send you back?” You laughed softly.

Bakugou snaked his arms around you, pushing himself impossibly closer to the point where you could tease him for being too clingy, his lips tugging into a pout he’d never admit to. “You can’t. You said yes when I proposed. You walked down the aisle. You said ‘for better or worse.’ That’s on you.”

You smiled, combing your hands through his hair. It may appear all spiky and rigid, but you’ve learned that it’s actually fluffy and soft—definitely well taken care of.

“I don’t remember that part. I think you dragged me down the aisle, all grumpy and scowling.”

“I didn’t drag you anywhere. You were practically sprintin’ to get hitched to me.”

“Was I?”

“You were,” he scoffs, but it’s soft, as if thankful of the fact. “And now you’re mine forever. No refunds, no returns, no exchanges.”

The sound of your laugh is something that’ll never get old to him. He could play it on repeat and never choose to turn it off.

“Forever’s a long time, Katsu.”

“Forever’s not a long time when I get to spend it with you,” he says. It’s the truth, and he can never bring himself to lie to you. Not now, not ever.

Because if anything, Bakugou Katsuki loves with his whole heart, puts every piece of himself in the things he does and has done, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you settle for anyone less.

“Spend it with the little brats, too.” Ah, your two daughters have him wrapped around their little fingers.

You rolled your eyes. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Definitely.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He looks at you with this all too familiar look, as if asking for a simple thing.

“And don’t even joke about tryin’ to get rid of me. You’d be lost without me.”

“Oh, absolutely helpless,” you tease, indulging him with a soft, chaste kiss.

Bakugou snorts. “Whatever.”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever,” Bakugou said firmly, resting his forehead against yours. His voice dropped into a quieter, almost shy tone. “And don’t forget, you’re stuck with me, too. No way I’m lettin’ you go.”

Your heart melted a little at his rare softness, and you kissed his cheek. “Fine, Katsu. I’ll keep you. But only because the return policy’s expired.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“No, you’re lucky I love you,” you joked.

“Damn right I am,” he replied, choosing to enjoy this serene moment with you rather than bothering to watch the same old boring fireworks to celebrate the new year an hour later.

Your husband can recreate any fireworks shows any day, anyway.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Batman is confused. Elsewhere, a fox has dinner with a social worker.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have a question about the report you submitted last Tuesday.”

“What is it, father?” Damian stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Bruce, still in his cowl from patrol.

“Could you please explain this… Fox… you wrote about?” He asked, carefully picking his words.

“What about it?”

The cave was filled with silence as they stared each other down. Bruce contemplated how to proceed. 

“Damian, foxes can’t do these things. They can’t understand human speech to the degree you described, they don’t exchange food for services, they can’t point you to the joker.”

“Are you calling me a liar father?” Damian snipped back.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“I didn’t lie,” Damian seethed through clenched teeth, “You can ask Grayson if you don’t believe me. But I did not lie.”

Bruce contemplated that reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t just a ploy to get a new pet. “Foxes can’t do those things,” he repeated, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I know.”

~~~~

Jason did not yelp. He did not jump and definitely did not scream like a 5 year old watching a horror movie. In fact he did not react at all when he walked into his safe house, turned on the light, and heard the gravelly voice of the 6 foot tall hell beast behind him calling his name. Nope. Not a single reaction. Not even a flinch. Totally. Definitely. 

Which is why Bruce’s current expression is completely unwarranted. It was the expression he made when Jason ate 5 plates of pancakes in one sitting two months into living with him. It was the expression he made when Jason lost his tooth naturally for the first time — rather than in a fight. It was the expression he made when Jason cried over a bruised knee when learning how to ride a bike. It was the expression he made when Cass fell asleep against him during a movie, close and comfortable. It was the expression he made when Stephanie would show off a new skill she learned or hobby she picked up. It was the expression he made when Tim would show off his photos, or when Babs would take a break to read a new book. It was the expression he made when Damian would ask for a play date, or Dick would show off new clothes. It was the expression he made when his kids, his family, acted like normal people, and not vigilantes burdened with a fight they could never win. And there was no reason for him to make that awful, soft, sappy, expression now because Jason did not scream.

“The fuck you want?” Jason snapped (because he was upset about being intruded upon, and definitely, totally not because he was embarrassed about squealing like a little girl. Which is something he did not do, by the way.)

“I wanted to ask you about something,” his voice was clear and stern, but still held concern and care.

Jason tilted his head toward Bruce, urging him to continue. “Damian wrote a report I found… odd. It was about your informant,” That idiotic fool “I was hoping you could clarify something.” 

Jason signed, he’d reem the little twerp later, and plopped himself down on the ratty once-beige couch. “Alright. Shoot.”

~~~~

The clothes were itchy. Unbelievably so. They were baggy, but the intentional kind. The kind that hid how malnourished you were, rather than highlighting it. They were new, unwashed, ugly, and would likely be returned the next day, if the tag digging into your back was any indication.

“How are things going dear?” Asked Ms.Kelsey, a naive younger woman with a brown bun and thin purple glasses, “are you liking your stay with Neels?”

“It’s not the worst home I’ve been in,” you answered smoothly. That wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact you could only shower on Wednesday mornings, they confiscated your phone two days in, and they seemingly despised the idea they had to feed you, it still wasn’t the worst home you’d been in. Not even top five. 

“That’s good to hear!” Ms.Kelsey, your current social worker, celebrated. She was new to the job, only a year in, and annoyingly cheerful, but she was visibly trying her best. You appreciated that. “How’s school been going?”

“We’re reading Shakespeare in my English class,” you offered.

“Oh! And how are you liking it?”

“It’s alright, but I really like my English teacher, he makes it fun.”

“That’s wonderful sweetie,” Ms.Kelsey grinned, “Let’s go join the family for dinner,” she directed, standing from the worn brown armchair in the living room and heading towards the dining room where the Mr. and Mrs. Neel were seated beside their son, George.

You took your seat at the stubby table, across from George. The table was dressed with a tacky floral tablecloth, and covered with various mismatched bowls of sides surrounding a rather large chicken. The food was, as typical for Mrs. Neel, simultaneously overcooked and raw. You plopped a spoonful of soggy broccoli on your plate, followed by a serving of (unintentionally chunky) mashed potatoes. No chicken, you weren’t willing to risk salmonella or the screaming fit that would follow. Only simple sides that they have plenty of, so they wouldn’t get mad at you. 

The mashed potatoes crunched when you took a bite, and you tried your best to ignore it. They tasted wet and sad, and far too salty. Chewing was both difficult and necessary as parts of the food slashed down your throat with little resistance, and others put up a fight when you tried to chew them. But this wasn’t the worst home you’ve been in. Far from it in fact. At least the food isn’t moldy! And there’s no— no, wait, yup that’s hair. You decided to risk the chunky potatoes swallowed down your mouthful with a glass of water.

Ms.Kelsey and the Neels exchanged pleasant conversation, while you picked at your food, taking small mouthfuls fast enough they wouldn’t ask questions, and slow enough you could carefully examine all the food. The evening passed in a swift haze, with no mistakes on your end. After Miss Kelsey left, you helped clear the table, pack the food away, and retreated to your rarely used bedroom.

The bedroom had bare white walls, an uncomfortable bed, and a small dresser you kept your clothes in. It was fine. Everything was fine, you kept repeating to yourself. It could be much, much worse. It has been much, much worse. Be thankful for what you have. At least tomorrow you’ll see your friends again! That’s gotta count for something, right?

~~~~

“They… didn’t come today…” Damian rarely allowed his emotions to breathe freely, so seeing him look so defeated was odd.

“It happens from time to time. ‘Bout once a month,” Jason clumsily tried to comfort, “they’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’re ok?” Damian asked, almost pleading, and looked up at Jason.

“I— ummm — ya,” he awkwardly placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was not sure, actually, but he hoped it was true. “Let’s leave the food here, so they’ll have something if they drop by later.” 

Damien seemed pleased by the idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

I put this elsewhere, but in case you haven't seen it: I'm having some technical difficulties with responding to comments, but I see them, and I appreciate them <3

[pha55ed]

PR Nightmare Two || F1/F2

type :: crack

tw/cw :: pee (carlos), sexual jokes (charles, oscar), watersports (lando), small smut (lando), mpreg (lando, oscar), bear fucking (ollie), necrophilia (ollie),

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul

summary :: driver!reader is the driver's teammate which is awesome! except the fact that you're a fucking pr disater who can't shut your mouth. platonic or romantic !

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

After moving to Williams, Carlos was terrified that you and him wouldn't click. But was quickly proven wrong as you were extremely open despite just meeting him. He knew everything about you... Too much...

Yet again, you were trapped in an interview that was seemingly never-ending. This interview was live on Sky Sports, meaning you both had to be extra careful and stay on for much longer than usual. Although Carlos was tired, you weren't. Yapping would have been your full time job if it wasn't for your skills in Formula.

"What is a secret you haven't told each other?" The interviewer asks, expecting something along the lines of 'I ate your ice-cream once' or 'I hate when you wear crocs'. Carlos was going to reply with something similar to that but you quickly jumped in.

"I wanna pee in the ice bath so bad" You said with a desperate tone, as if you were grieving the pain of not being able to bathe in your own piss. Carlos looked at you in shock.

"What?!" He asked, his shock turning to laughter to help cope. "But you never did right...?"

"Of course not holy shit." You say, disgusted he would think so lowly of you. "But I wanna see how my pee would react the muscle-relaxants and ice and shit. Like what if I become the Hulk but yellow-"

Quickly the camera were cut and the live stream ended before you could say more. You ruined an entire live stream with over 20,000 live viewers. From that moment, Carlos knew you two would be perfect together on this team.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Doing small interviews didn't bother Charles that much. He didn't mind talking and his fanbase was lovely. But once you became his new teammate at Ferrari, interviews were now 10 times more fun.

"Did you guys have any embarrassing childhood crushes?" The interviewer asked, finally giving you both non-racing related questions.

"Oh yes!" Charles said, excited to talk about himself. "Definitely Kristen Stewart haha! Not very embarrassing, but I did watch Twilight just for her."

"That's so valid" You said relaxed, "I think mine was probably 9."

Both Charles and the interviewer looked extremely confused. "From what show...?" The interviewer asked, assuming it was something like the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things.

Now you were confused as well, "Huh? There's no show." You repeated yourself. "9, as in the number... Like the circle and line."

"Oh..." The interviewer said, trying their best to find a way to segway this into the next question but they were cut off by Charles.

"No way," Charles said, "Maybe! MAYBE I could understand the number 8 but 9???" Now the interviewer was completely lost. "At least 8 has curves and a body, what does 9 have?"

"I know he's packin" You said with a grin "That little curved tail, curved UPWARDS? And the-"

Cameras off. Interviewers cutting you off. And Charles was deeply interested... This clip launches your duo name: Eight Eat Nine

Lando Norris | 04

"How are you helping (Y/N) adjust to being a new Papaya!" The interviewer asked innocently. Little did she know how much Lando has been enduring with you. Thankfully he recored it all and there would be a video posted to Youtube soon.

"Awful." Lando says before chuckling, almost more like a nervous break down chuckle. "Every day is hell with em' here."

"What???" The interviewer asked, thinking she got first-hand access to the newest gossip on the grid. "Did something happen?"

"YEAH." Lando said, simply nodding, not having the guts to say what you did. Thankfully, but not very thankfully to Lando, you walked into the interview after overhearing it.

"Yeah, what DID I do?" You ask, almost sounding threatening. "Don't make me show you again."

After weeks passed and rumors were rampant online. Rumors about you blackmailing him, overthrowing his family's business, kicking him out of Mclaren, and so so many more extreme rumors that you both were laughing at. Lando finally edited and posted his newest Youtube video: "Reading Fanfiction with (Y/N)!?"

Despite the thumbnail seeming like you two would be reading fan-fiction shipping you both together, instead, you found the most vile, borderline dark content, gay fics of Lando with a variety of drivers.

Thus, explaining the odd dynamic between you two. In reality, you both were perfectly fine and closer than ever. But you just wanted to play up the drama in order to rack up some views and tweets. It was awful for the PR team, but to you guys: it was funny.

Oscar Piastri | 81

oscarpiastri: got a tan and a new helmet: ready to destroy the next half of the 25' season! @.mclaren

→ yourusername: finish taking that shirt off. now.

→ yourusername: take off your pants too while your at it.

⎯→ user 01: OH MY GOD (Y/N)?????? UNDER A MCLAREN TAGGED POST TOO????

→ user 02: they're never ever going to beat the dating accusations

⎯→ yourusername: we're about to be dating once he comes home

→ user 03: thought i was a freak but (y/n)... u can have him

→ yourusername: my lovely wonder-bread, bend over for me.

⎯→ user 04: i thought this was a joke about his name sounding like pastry but she's just calling him white, isnt she

⎯→ user 05: that's her precious white chocolate delight

→ yourusername: gonna get ur fine ass pregnant

→ yourusername: raw. next question.

⎯→ user 06: i can't tell if she's tiktok typa horny or tumblr typa horny

⎯→ user 07: definitely tumblr...

No image. I'm not searching this shit up again.

Max Verstappen | 01

Tiktok is something Max tries to stay away from. Not that he hates the app, he'd just rather do something else with his time. But you, the newest and youngest driver on the grid, loved Tiktok. You were basically the marketing for Redbull despite your out of pocket videos at times.

And that included you coming up with the idea to have Max react to fans posts. An innocent idea that Max didn't mind filming content for, after all, he loved his fans. But you quickly were going to make him doubt that.

You were smart, showing him innocent tiktoks first. Fan art, cool edits, and even analysis on his best drives. As the video was coming to an end, you brought up the trend where drivers were compared to a food and a quote.

Often times Max was compared to a key lime pie, bell pepper, or an energy drink. But you then showed him THE strawberry slideshow. You knew what the ending was.

"Oh strawberry!" Max said, excited to finally get a sweet themed item. But as he swiped and saw the strawberries then coated with white chocolate, obviously implying something, he jumped back and gasped. "OH!!! Well, I didn't... I didn't expect that."

While you were dying, already posting it - he was traumatized.

Oliver Bearman | 87

Interviews were fun between you both, fans always loved it. Mainly because both of you can't keep your mouth shut. The only way to make your interviews even worse is to get Franco to join in with you guys.

But unlike Ollie's sassy comments, you asked stupid questions. Butt fuck stupid questions. Which Ollie always took serious. Think of Tom Holland answering the question about him "faking" being British or Theo Von's podcast vibes. It was the dumb American x understanding Brit duo.

So when you both were forced to create a "podcast" for Prema, aka a race preview, you both took full advantage of this time. You were supposed to be just folding laundry, but almost nothing got folded. It was just yapping and yapping.

"I got a question," You say, attempting to fold a shirt but doing awful at it.

"Hmm?" Ollie replied, picking up the shirt you just folded and undoing it. Only to fold it properly himself.

"Why is your name Bearman?" You ask. "Cause like, I know British people got like, My Little Pony names. Like how people named Smith's were blacksmiths and stuff."

"Oh well," Ollie paused to think, "I dunno actually. It's from my great grandpa so."

"Did he fuck a bear or something?" You ask, nonchalantly while Ollie instantly is confused. "Cause lowkey, back in the day I bet Bearman was a slur."

"No..." Ollie hesitated, "I highly doubt my grandpa fucked a bear. I think we probably just hunted bears-"

"So you're a family of necrophiles?" You shake your head, "That's just wrong man."

"I never said that-"

Paul Aron | 17

paularon_: Went for a run, in Italy, with a film camera🇮🇹🎥

→ yourusername: is it say yes to the dress or say yes to the SLUT???

→ yourusername: is this your soft launch for your only fans?

⎯→ user 01: i'd so buy it tbh

→ yourusername: pepemartiofficial kimi.antonelli olliebearman jakcrawford_ zane.maloney isackhadjar dennis_hauger

⎯→ paularon_: why are you @ ing the whole grid

⎯→ yourusername: to slut shame you

→ pepemartiofficial: did you lose your shirt over the summer?

→ olliebearman: go eat a burger (save somes baddies for the rest of us)

→ jakcrawford_: we get it, ur buff with a huge dick

⎯→ user 02:: how do u know that…

⎯→ yourusername: I can vouch for

→ isackhadjar: put a bra on slut

⎯→ yourusername: I don’t even think mines will fit him