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Hello! :3 I see ure writing yandere and for inho and with my current obsession over the front man/hwang inho im asking if you can do yandere front man? Pls do it as dark as possible 🙏
Did I read dark? Absolutely!
Yandere Hwang In-ho/Frontman
Squid Game masterlist
Nsfw and dead dove do not eat below.
At first his focus was towards Gi-hun, but when you were part of their team, sat with them, talking to him, his focus slowly but surely shifted to you.
In-ho would silently root for you without letting his front man mask slip.
The guards will give you food that has been only reserved for you during mealtime. Suddenly your ration has the type of food you like, an extra egg or more rice, but most importantly the nutrisions you'd need for the next game.
In-ho is the reason a random player has been shot instead of you, he is the reason the guards have escorted you to the bathroom as another lights out fight happened.
Hwang hears everything you say, whether it's during eating or when he's laying awake in his bed, listening to you speaking with someone.
He's too good of a manipulator, tells you to listen to him instead of the former winner Gi-hun, tells you to stay close to him instead anybody else.
"Why go with Gi-hun and risk getting killed when you can stay with me where you'd be safe?"
In-ho watches you from the corner of his eyes, his knuckles turning white when he sees another Thanos-like douchebag confronting you.
He has absolutely no trouble beating someone bloody who dared flirting with you or touching you without consent. Could easily snap that person's neck without a flinch.
In-ho gets sick pleasure when he sees someone you've got close with get gunned down by the guards. You look so pretty to him, no matter if you're crying or not..
If a raid against the guards happens, Hwang watches you like a hawk, making sure you're not getting harmed and you're not getting away. His stares would be so intense he is sure you would feel them burn through you.
During a raid, he couldn't be happier because whatever happens he knows you will be captured, either by his guards or directly him after faking his death.
He already plans what he would do with you once you've been captured, he would make you watch the games with him, all in his front man attire of course.
Forces you to watch the guards gun down the ones you became friends with, telling you:
"See what happens to those you call friends? The money makes them your friends until they're getting it and betray you..."
Has planned to keep you in his chambers while observing the games, having his right hand man, the Officer, keeping tabs on you.
Hwang will reveal himself to you soon, expecting your eyes widen in fear, shock or hopelessness.
In-ho would personally implant a tracker into you, making sure he always knows where you are, this way you have almost no way of getting rid of him.
In-ho keeps you exclusively to himself, not even the VIPs are allowed near you. He has his moments where he treats you more like his trophy, squeezing your thighs possessively with his cold leather glove.
"You are by far the most beautiful price. But I get to keep you, you're my perfect price.."
In-ho is rich as hell, so there is no doubt he will spoil you with it.
Any rogue guard trying to lay his hands on you gets his lesson taught with a bullet in his brain for touching his perfect price.
Hwang may seem cold to his staff, but with you he isn't. He's the man whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you're too weak to stand.
If you're trying to escape however... that is if you somehow make it past the guards, In-ho can get harsh with you too.
"Trying to escape are we? Perhaps you need a reminder of who you belong to now, hm?"
His favorite is having you on his lap, with his cock stuffed into you while he watches the games. You're not allowed to move until he says so, you're not allowed to cum until he says so, you're not allowed to make noise until he says so.
Your best bet with him is behaving and doing what he says.
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#squid game#squid game 2#hwang in ho#the frontman#the front man#yandere hwang in ho#hwang in ho x reader#the front man x reader#squid game season 2
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ೃ⁀➷ swan song ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱
╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x player!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! please be sure to check out their profile for squid game fanfictions, they have helped me with my works and their writing is perfection! 🤍
˚ ༘♡ the rain cascaded in a relentless downpour, burying the world in its somber rhythm. you stood motionless, soaked to the bone, your tattered black satin gown clinging to your pallid skin, pearls glinting faintly in the dim moonlight. across from you stood cho sang-woo, his tailored suit stained with smears of blood that had long since dried, a stark contrast to the high-class reputation he once upheld. there had been a time when the sight of him would have filled you with affection, a time when you had imagined him as your husband, the man you would spent all of eternity with.
˚ ༘♡ the man before you now bore no resemblance to the one you had loved so deeply. where once there had been kindness, there was now a malicious cruelty. the charm that had drawn you in, the quiet strength and righteous honesty, had been nothing more than a facade. before the games, your lives had seemed perfect, lavish dinners at exclusive steakhouses, extravagant shopping trips, the allure of wealth. yet it was never the riches that held your heart. you had loved him for the moments of vulnerability, the whispered dreams during midnight strolls, the promises of a future built on trust. now, those memories felt like lies, twisted shadows of a man who no longer existed.
˚ ༘♡ his grip on the knife was steady, the same blade he had used to take sae-byeok’s life. you could still see her fragile form laid on the ground, blood swarming under her stiff body as her she weakly murmured her little brother’s name. she had begged for another chance to see him again, her eyes glazed with fear and dread, only to be silenced in a merciless slashing. that moment was etched into your soul, an infested wound that refused to heal. you had pleaded with gi-hun to spare sang-woo when the opportunity arose, your love for him, a ghost of what it once was, still clinging to the hope that he could be saved. however, sparing him had been a mistake.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo had demonstrated no remorse. he had turned his blade on gi-hun after being confronted for sae-byeok’s murder, killing his childhood best friend with little hesitation, leaving you as the only two left to face the end. now, as the rain fell in endless torrents, you stood in the storm’s heart, the past unraveling between you. the love you had once cherished lay shattered at your feet, replaced by a chasm of betrayal and regret.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you called out, your voice steady despite the quivering in your limbs. your gaze locked onto his, and slowly, deliberately, you let the knife slip from your grasp. it landed in the rain-soaked sand with a muted thud, quickly swallowed by the muck. droplets cascaded down your face, obscuring your vision, but you didn’t look away. “you’ve killed so many,” you said, your voice carrying over the storm, though faint and muffled. “innocent strangers, people who trusted you, those who loved you. i’m no different.”
˚ ༘♡ his jaw clenched as his face contorted with rage. “pick up the damn knife!” he shouted, his voice raw and jagged. his body shook, a mix of fury and something more fragile, a deep, unspoken torment etched into his expression. his eyes betrayed him, scorned and sorrowful.
˚ ༘♡ “i will not,” you replied softly, your soaked hair sticking to your melancholic face. “i won’t fight you. i can’t.” your breathing troubled as you continued, words tumbling out between the harsh pouring of the rain. “even if i won… what would it matter? what’s left for me to go back to? the money won’t mend this. it can’t rid what’s been done, the people we’ve lost, the pieces of ourselves we’ll never get back.”
˚ ༘♡ for a split second, his grip on the knife loosened, his fingers moving as though fighting an internal war, but just as quickly, they tightened. blood trailed down the cut across his face, mingling with the rain, streaking his skin with crimson. “for fuck’s sake!” he barked, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “stop being so difficult and come here! let’s finish this!”
˚ ༘♡ “no, sang-woo,” you said firmly, taking a step toward him, unarmed, your hands open at your sides. “if the money is all you care about, if you’re so desperate to go back and see your mother, to undo all your mistakes, to lead the life you desire, to have a beautiful home, a loving wife, good children, then kill me. go ahead. take the knife and end the game.”
˚ ༘♡ tears burned your eyes, falling hot and salty down your face before the rain could wash them away. you moved closer, mere inches from him now, your voice low and steady, almost a whisper. “do it,” you murmured. “you’ll have to, or neither of us gets anything, and i won’t hurt you, sang-woo.”
˚ ༘♡ his arm lifted, the knife angled toward your chest. his jaw tightened, his breathing ragged, but he didn’t strike. the blade hovered between you, shaking ever so slightly. “i… i can’t kill you,” he said, his voice breaking as the words escaped him.
˚ ༘♡ “but you could kill sae-byeok?” you asked, voice hoarse, choking on your words, your lips curving downward in a frown. “you could kill gi-hun? their lives meant less than mine? sae-byeok had her little brother waiting for her, and gi-hun has a daughter who will never understand why her father didn’t come back.” your voice grew softer, mellowed by despair. “their lives were important, sang-woo. their lives held no less value than yours or mine.”
˚ ༘♡ his face became grim, a flash of anguish breaking through his hardened mask. “don’t you think i understand that?” he shouted, his voice catching on the words. his free hand pressed against his chest as though the pain inside was physical, unbearable. “i didn’t do it because i wanted to! you think i enjoyed it? you think i’m a sadist?” his voice cracked, his desperation bleeding into every word. “everything i’ve done… i had no choice! i have to fix this. i have to make it right. otherwise, what was all of this for? the sacrifices, the suffering, it will mean nothing!”
˚ ༘♡ the rain fell harder, drowning out the quietude, as his words hung in the air, each one more bitter than the last. you could see it, the guilt embedded into his aged face, the torment tearing him apart, but it didn’t undo the blood on his hands.
˚ ༘♡ your fingers wrapped around his trembling hand, guiding the blade to your throat. the cold metal kissed your skin, and your voice was composed despite the tears falling freely down your face. “go home, sang-woo,” you said softly, your grip strengthened to keep his hand close to you.
˚ ༘♡ his face was streaked with rain and tears now, his composure unraveling. his breathing was uneven, his chest heaving as he tried to pull the knife away. “i won’t do it,” he choked out, his voice hoarse, trembling with something between anguish and resolve. his fingers curled tighter around the hilt, but not to push forward, only to keep it from you. “i won’t kill you.”
˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the rain pounding against the earth. your gaze shifted to the stormy horizon, staring blankly at the void ahead. “sang-woo,” you whispered, your tone solemn, distant. “do you remember that night you stayed over at my place? you said you liked my cooking, even though we both knew it was awful. and i laughed at all your ridiculous, outdated jokes and listened to your business jargon, even when i didn’t know half the terms you used, i liked being the woman you spent your days with.” a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, though it was short-lived, disappearing as quickly as it came. “that’s the day i remember the most. not the gifts, not the trips, not the money. none of it mattered to me. only mattered. i wanted you, nothing else.”
˚ ༘♡ his breath snagged, his lips parting to speak, but no words came. you turned your tear-streaked face toward him, meeting his tormented gaze. “it will never be like that again,” you said, your voice breaking. “we can’t go back, sang-woo. not after everything.”
˚ ༘♡ before he could react, you wrenched the knife from his hand with a sudden, sharp motion. his eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he reached for you. but it was too far too late. the blade pierced your throat with brutal precision, and the warmth of your blood poured over your trembling hands. you staggered, the world moving and fading around you, your legs giving out beneath you as you collapsed.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo…” you murmured, your voice barely audible as you crumpled to the wet sand. scarlet-red ichor spilled out in thick rivers, melding with the rain-soaked earth.
˚ ༘♡ “no!” he screamed, his voice raw and broken, as he fell to his knees beside you. quivering hands reached for you, lifting your head from the wet sand as rain pelted down in icy sheets. his tears mingled with the blood streaking your face, his sobs shaking his entire body. “please, no… don’t do this,” he choked out, desperation lacing every word. “stay with me, please.”
˚ ༘♡ you opened your mouth to speak, but the words came weak, barely audible over the thunderous rain. “my… my family,” you sputtered, your voice thick with the blood flooding your throat. each breath was a struggle, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. “tell them… tell them i won’t be there anymore, okay?” your fingers, trembling and cold, lifted to brush against his bloodied cheek. your touch was feather-light, tender despite your waning strength. “sang-woo… please, don’t forget me, okay?”
˚ ༘♡ his face was agonized, tears streaming past the injuries that marred his angular features, it was rare to see him so emotional, so delirious with grief. “i won’t,” he swore, his voice cracking beneath the strain of his grief. “i won’t forget you. i’ll never…” he stopped, his words caught in his throat as he pressed his hands to the gaping wound on your neck, desperate to stop the flow of blood. it was a futile effort, the red blood spilled through his fingers, staining the sand beneath you. “please, stay with me,” he whispered, his voice shatterred into a sob. “don’t leave me. please. i can’t live without you.”
˚ ༘♡ his desperate efforts were all in vain. the life was draining from your body, the world dimming around you. your breaths came slower, softer, each one feeling close to your last. his frantic cries grew distant, muffled as if you were slipping underwater. your vision blurred, the storm above fading into oblivion. and yet, through it all, his face remained clear as could be, the pain in his dark eyes burned into your thoughts.
˚ ༘♡ the last sound you heard was not his voice, but something colder, emptier. an emotionless voice echoed through the air, chilling and robotic, void of anything human.
˚ ༘♡ “player 177, eliminated.”
˚ ༘♡ you exhaled one final breath, your hand falling limply from sang-woo’s bloodied face as the darkness consumed you.
a/n: another cho sang-woo fanfiction!! he’s my favorite character so there will definitely be more for him!!! please let me know you if any requests and your thoughts on this story! 🤍
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game fanfiction#squid game fic#squid game season 2#squid game imagine#squid game x y/n#cho sang woo fanfiction#cho sang woo fic#cho sang woo x female reader#cho sang woo x you#cho sang woo x reader#cho sang woo#cho sangwoo#cho sangwoo x reader#cho sang woo fanfic#cho sang woo imagine#player 218 fanfic#player 218 fanfiction#player 218 x reader#player 218#player 218 x you#kang sae byeok#sae byeok#player 067#seong gi hun#gi hun#player 456#kang sae byeok fanfiction#soeng gi hun fanfiction
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AAAA I love your writing so much!!!
HEHE I have a smut request for The Salesman
Backstory; Female y/n always see the salesman doing his job at the station. She even played with him one time and won however she never accepted the card. As the days goes by they will greet each other with a simple nod gesture or smile sometimes even small chat before he finds his new victim and she’s heading back home.
UNTIL
She overheard the two recruits Gi-hun hired (I forgot their names oops) planning to hurt the salesman (I know the plot they weren’t supposed to approach him but let’s pretend Gi-hun give them a task to kidnap and torture salesman hehehe)
So y/n ran back to the station and disrupted salesman while he was in the middle of slapping the poor homeless dude. Talking gibberish to him. He has no clue what the hell she’s talking about bc she’s out of breath from running and talking too fast. He’s just confused. When y/n saw the two men again approaching their way. She grabs salesman head and kissed him. [I hope you seen the scene of captain America and black widow kissing to display discomfort so the bad guys won’t catch them at the mall hahaha basically like that scene]
He pulled back looking even more confused. She said display of affection make people uncomfortable, as soon as she said that he looked up and saw the two men walking past them. Y/n felt embarrassed and ran home. In the middle of the night someone was banging her door. She opened it and…..SMUT TIME HEHEHE
Also I’m terribly sorry for my grammar English is not my native language :’)
[also if you do accept can you send me a message 🙈 ty heheh]
SLOW DOWN
pairings: the salesman x Fem!reader
Summary: A routine night at the train station takes a dark turn when you overhear two men plotting to attack the mysterious salesman you’ve casually crossed paths with before. Acting on impulse, you intervene in the only way you can—by kissing him to throw off his pursuers. What seems like a reckless moment of instinct pulls you into his dangerous world.
Warnings: language, violence (kinda), Dom!salesman x sub!reader, praising, whipped cream kink, kissing, mentions of blood, fingering, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it.
Wc: 3k
A/n: you ask I deliver, hope you like it, not proofread <33
The sharp snap of skin colliding with skin echoes through the crowded station. You barely flinch. You've heard it before. Too many times.
Across the station, he stands on the cold tile floor—immaculate suit, polished shoes, that same unsettling grin. He raises his hand and slaps the man across from him again. Sharp. Precise.
Another one hooked.
You lean against the metal pillar, watching. You know this game. You’ve played it before.
It was a week ago.
The station hummed with the dull buzz of flickering lights and the occasional metallic screech of trains crawling in and out. You were late. Work had dragged on longer than usual, and by the time you reached the platform, the last train was dragging its heels. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and damp concrete.
That’s when you saw him.
The man in the pristine suit.
He stood out like a polished coin in a pile of rusted change. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and that too-perfect smile stretched across his face like it had been painted on. He leaned casually against a pillar, holding two small folded squares of paper—one red, one blue.
He caught your eye, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, with a subtle flick of his wrist, he gestured to the empty space across from him. His movements were practiced, smooth, as if this routine had been rehearsed countless times.
Curiosity gnawed at you before logic could interfere. You found yourself walking toward him, footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.
“Want to play a game?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic. He held up the two folded papers between his fingers, the colors dull under the harsh station lights.
“Seriously?” You eyed him warily.
“It’s simple. Flip my tile with yours. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win…” His smile widened, just enough to feel unsettling. “I slap you.”
You scoffed, folding your arms. “That’s it? No tricks?”
“No tricks.” His tone didn’t waver.
Against better judgment, you stood. The game was straightforward, deceptively so. The first round, you won. The second, too. His tile moving frantically under your strikes. His face remained unchanged, though, as if he expected this. Not a single slap coming your way. He handed over the cash with a flick of his wrist, the money slipping into your palm like silk.
Then came the card.
A brown rectangle with a circle, triangle, and square etched in black. He held it out casually, like an afterthought.
“What’s this?” you asked, fingers hovering over it.
“A bigger game. A chance to win more.”
His voice dipped, something darker coiled beneath his words. A chill crept up your spine. You smirked, flicking the card back at him with two fingers.
“Not interested.”
The card fluttered to the ground, but he didn’t look offended. No, he only chuckled, kneeling down and slipping it back into his pocket.
Since then, you saw him often.
Always at the station. Always playing his game with some poor soul desperate enough to take the bait. Your interactions became routine—brief nods, and smiles the occasional quip when you caught him mid-game.
But tonight was different.
You are leaned against a pillar, letting the cold seep into your back. The station was quieter than usual, the shadows thicker. That’s when you heard them.
Two men by the vending machines, their voices low but sharp.
“That’s him. The guy in the suit.”
“Yeah. Just like boss said. We follow him out, grab him, torture him, make him talk. He knows everything.”
Your stomach twisted. Shit.
Without thinking, you pushed off the pillar and sprinted across the station, boots slapping against the concrete. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning your lungs.
He didn’t notice you until you were right in front of him.
“You need to leave. Now.”
His hand paused mid-slap, hovering above the cheek of a nervous man. Slowly, his head turned to you, one brow lifting.
“Excuse me?” His tone was calm, almost amused.
You leaned in, speaking low and fast. “Those two men by the vending machines? They’re coming for you. You need to trust me and leave.”
His eyes didn’t move, but something shifted in his posture. He blinked slowly, considering you.
“I don’t know what you’re saying”
Frustration flared. You glanced back. The two men were moving now, angling toward you both.
“Shit,” you muttered. Thinking fast, you did the first thing that came to mind.
You grabbed his face and kissed him.
His entire body stiffened, muscles locking beneath your hands. The world around you seemed to freeze. The station noise dulled to a distant hum.
You pulled back abruptly, heart pounding in your ears. His wide eyes stared into yours, utterly confused.
“Display of affection,” you muttered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Makes people uncomfortable.”
His gaze flicked past you. The two men hesitated, awkwardly glancing away as they veered off in the opposite direction.
A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened, smoothing down his tie.
“Clever.”
Your face burned. "I’m sorry, I had to do that, but you need to get out of the station."
Without another word, you turned and bolted, weaving through the crowd and up the station steps. You didn’t stop until the cold night air hit your face.
---
It was well past midnight when the banging started.
You jolted awake, heart slamming against your ribs. Someone was pounding on your door, relentless.
You hesitated, fingers brushing over the baseball bat by your bed. But you decided to leave it, Slowly, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole.
It was him.
The man in the suit.
Your blood ran cold, before you unlocked the door cautiously, opening it just a crack.
“What the hell—”
He pushed the door wider, stepping in uninvited. That same unnerving smile stretched across his face.
“We need to talk.”
His tone left no room for argument.
You stared, unsure whether to slam the door in his face or listen.
“About what?” you asked nervously
His smile widened just a fraction.
“About why you tried saving my life.”
His voice was smooth, but something darker lurked beneath it. You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how small your apartment felt with him standing there. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. And another. Closing the door behind him.
Instinctively, you backed up.
His eyes never left you, scanning you with unnerving precision. The thin fabric of your pajama shorts and the loose strap of your shirt felt far too revealing under his gaze. Like he was undressing you. Heat crept up your neck, but you couldn’t look away.
“You ran all that way... just to save me?” His tone was low, edged with amusement, but there was something sharp underneath. He tilted his head, taking another step closer, as you backed up again. "Tell me, was it bravery... or something else?"
“I—uh... I just thought—”
“You thought what?” he interrupted smoothly, still moving forward, now closing the space between you. “That I couldn’t handle a few men?”
You felt your breath catch. Your heel bumped into the cold tile of the kitchen counter. Shit. Nowhere else to go.
He noticed.
“I killed them, you know.”
Your eyes snapped to his face. The casual way he said it made your stomach twist.
“Oh, yes.” His smirk deepened. “It was... enjoyable.”
Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to the dark stains on his shirt. Blood.
The air thickened. Your breathing turned shallow, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He was too close now.
His hands came up slowly—deliberately—and planted themselves on either side of you, caging you in against the counter. The cool edge of the countertop bit into your lower back.
He leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over the curve of your neck. His scent—metallic, faintly sweet, and something darker—wrapped around you. One of his hands slid, gliding over your waist, fingers curling to pull you forward against him, eliminating even the smallest sliver of space between you. And that’s when you felt him.
“You should be more careful who you save,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not everyone is grateful.”
Before you could react, his hands shifted with unsettling ease, gripping your hips. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the cold countertop. You gasped, instinctively gripping the edge, your legs parting as he stepped between them, locking you in.
His eyes bored into yours, and for a fleeting second, you couldn’t decide if it was fear or something else that sent a shiver down your spine.
“So, tell me,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. "Why did you really save me?"
His hand traced slowly along your thigh, barely touching, yet burning. You couldn’t answer. Your mind screamed for words, but your lips stayed parted, breathless.
And his smirk deepened, eyes flicking past you to something on the counter that you forgot to remove earlier. Slowly, he reached over without breaking eye contact. His fingers curled around the can of whipped cream, lifting it with casual ease.
Your brows knit in confusion. "What are you—"
Before you could finish, he brought the nozzle to his lips and pressed down. The soft hiss filled the air as the white cream curled into his mouth. He swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Sweet,” he murmured, voice smooth and dark. His eyes dragged lazily over you, settling on your parted lips. “But it could taste better.”
Before the words could settle, his hand moved—calloused fingers tilting your chin up. His thumb and forefinger gently hooked under your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. The cool metal of the can brushed your skin, and a soft stream of whipped cream slid onto your tongue.
You barely had a moment to react before his mouth crashed into yours.
The kiss was fierce, and unapologetic. His lips moulded to yours, but it wasn’t enough—his tongue pushed past your lips, exploring every corner of your mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness, tangling with your tongue in a heated rhythm.
Your breath hitched, and your hands instinctively gripped his shirt, knuckles brushing against the dried blood you hadn’t dared to question yet. fisting the fabric as his kiss deepened. He groaned low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through you, spurring him on.
His tongue teased and stroked against yours, pulling soft, involuntary sounds from you. Every movement was calculated, demanding, as if he wanted to taste every bit of you, not just the sweetness on your lips.
When he finally pulled back, your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips slick and swollen. A trail of saliva between you.
But he wasn’t finished.
The can hissed again—this time against the sensitive skin of your neck. A cold trail of cream dripped along your pulse point, making you shiver.
Then his mouth was on you—hot and unrelenting. His tongue flicked over the sticky trail, licking it up slowly, savouring the taste of cream and skin. His teeth grazed your throat, nipping just enough to make you moan.
A low chuckle rumbled against your neck as his lips latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
His grip tightened around your waist, your legs wrapped around his hips without thinking, drawing him impossibly closer.
His breath ghosted over your ear, deep and rough.
“See?” he murmured, tongue lightly tracing the shell of your ear. “It tastes so much better this way.”
He was breathing closer to your ear, lingering over your neck for moments before his lips pressed against you again.
You moaned out softly to how he was kissing your bare shoulders, down to the blade of them, then back up, “damn it,” his notes were so low, “fuck”
“What?” you finally managed to say, pushing against him a bit, the feeling immaculate, you could feel how hard he is pressing against you, and you can barely breathe.
“you’re so fucking sweet.”
The tension is thickening around you, the heat in your bodies is too much to ignore, you couldn’t stand against it, you couldn’t stand against him, he was just so addicting in a way you couldn’t quite place.
The very instant you felt his lips on your skin again, the warmth of his body, you couldn’t hold it back. Arching your back, pushing thighter against him, you could rupture at how he was teasing at the hem of your shorts, “take them off.”
He pulled the fabric down frantically, a thud to the ground, before slipping his fingers below the lace material of your underwear, and you gasped, your body tensing close to his the very instant he came in contact with your clit, “so wet f’me”
You nearly moaned, huffing sweetly at his touch and the circles he made, “the things I have in my mind for you.” His hand gently started cupping your breast. He had you in such a hold now that you could barely move.
Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head, it was the tension his voice held.
He let his middle finger inside you as far as he could reach, you spread your tight a bit further apart allowing him more of you.
“Mhm? Right there, yeah?” he growled, nearly moaning himself at the way you moved. “fuck, you’re so soaked.”
You couldn't even hear him properly. your mind wasn't working further than to what his hand was doing to you. He moved steadily in and out of you, curling his finger right where it would have you shaking. His thumb brushed across your clit every now and then, and you couldn't focus.
''Yeah,'' he muttered, nibbling at your earlobe, ''Be my beautiful girl and let me feel you.''
you reached out tangling your fingers into his black strands, and it didn't take long until you was a moaning mess under his touch. Your hips spasmed. Your breathing levelled heavier, and you gasped repeatedly. It was music to his ears, a never-ending orchestra.
''Now I want to know, do you want to continue'' he withdrew his touch from your core, forcing his hand down between you. “I won’t, if you don’t want to”
Without thinking your fingers intestinally wrapped around the loop of his belt, confidence build up as you tugged at it forward. “I want to.” You breathed before loosening his belt, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the kitchen.
He took over impatiently zipping his pants down, before freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers as he pushed the material aside.
Taking his cock in his hand and you moved with him. You was still facing him, your chest pressed against his front as he lifted your thigh, giving him everything he could need from you.
''To think I’ve always fantasized about this moment,'' he hissed as he dragged his cock up and down your soaked slit. Teasing by pushing forward and creating unbearable friction against your clit, ''I thought that after that night, I would never see you again, yet you kept showing up, flashing me those smiles, making my mind drive me insane, fuck—''
You exhaled, thundery. You couldn't shape a word at the pleasure he is putting you through even if you wished to do so. you simply whined. body shaking.
Pushing into you, a bit at the time, he bit down your bare shoulder, needing to ease his own tension, “You're like a cigarette at midnight—dangerous, burning slow, and impossible to put down."
He moved his hand over your hip, lifting your leg more, “And the worst part? You know it’ll ruin you—leave you hollow and wrecked—but fuck, you’re already leaning in, desperate for that first hit, craving the way it burns and numbs you all at once.”
You threw your head back, tensing your fingers into his hair as he fucked you on the countertop. It was hard. He fucked you roughly yet with so much passion. It was intimate, emotional. His body moved with yours— your body obeyed his.
“...and that’s the real addiction, isn’t it? Not the rush, not the aftermath—but the waiting. The wanting. Knowing it’ll destroy you and still craving every second before it does.'' He was speaking so low to you, plunging his cock in and out of you, forcing your body to take what he gave.
You whimpered, your fingers clawing at his neck now, ''please—''
He pushed harder. Forced his cock deeper, reached further.
''And not to speak about this fucking cunt...'' He moaned, drawing his tongue along the arch of your neck, ''I can't really blame myself if I get hooked, can I?''
you breathed out. Your eyes rolling, your back curling, ''Please. I can't take it—''
''One taste of this, and you're fucking addicting.'' The hand supporting your leg slid lower until the back of your knee rested in the curve of his elbow, and he spaced your thighs more, diving into you depths and losing his mind over how hot and tight you were around him.
''I'm—''
He was relieved by that. He could barely hold himself together at the tension between you, the fusion and mix of need and thirst of your bodies. He slowed his movements, not bucking his hips as roughly anymore, and you were close. So close.
''Fucking hell—'' He groaned against your shoulder again, burying his head into the soft spot of your neck. He came the second he felt you pulsating around him. The instant he felt your release around him, he came just as crashing down as you'd done.
Breathing heavily, he pulled out, stepping back just a bit as he dragged your worn out body forward. It was a moment, if so a short, little one, where your cheek rested against his chest, and his lips pushed into the top of your head. That tiny moment felt good. It felt calm and reassuring to both of you.
“thanks, for keeping me alive.”
#the salesman#squid game x reader#squid game smut#squid game salesman#squid game fanfic#squid game#salesman smut#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo#intimate#smut#i’ll cry
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“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)
teacher!in-ho x you
──── ୨୧ ────
when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?
──── ୨୧ ────
in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.
he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.
but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.
in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.
eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.
he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.
he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.
──── ୨୧ ────
it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.
you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.
“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.
“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.
lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.
as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.
“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.
as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.
“get up, nerd.” you heard.
you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.
“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.
the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.
by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.
“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.
“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.
she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.
“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.
“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”
“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.
“thank you.” you blushed.
“that was really kind, what you did there.”
“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”
“you’re a good girl, y/n.”
oh.
“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.
“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.
“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.
──── ୨୧ ────
that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.
they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…
no, you were.
you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.
the interaction he had with yoy kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.
you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.
the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.
by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.
however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.
what he was excited about? he didn’t know.
he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.
the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrugued.
“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.
in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”
“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.
time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.
his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.
maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.
after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.
but you didn’t.
someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.
“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.
you took it as a sign to leave.
as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be intrigued by the conversation.
“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.
somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.
──── ୨୧ ────
that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.
god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.
he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.
‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.
he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.
in-ho went to sleep that night with you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.
──── ୨୧ ────
days went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.
within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.
as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.
when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.
he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.
his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.
what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.
it messed with his head in the best way possible.
furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really making you wet?
if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.
he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.
if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.
he wanted more.
#frontman#frontman x reader#frontman x you#hwang inho#inho x reader#inho x you#lee byun hun x reader#lee byun hun x you#squid game#squidgame season 2#hwang inho x you#hwang inho x reader#lee byung hun x you#lee byung hun x reader#lee byung hun
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"The Case Files of Detective Harrison" Collection Event
Ring Schwartz
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
CASE 01
Request Details: Find the culprit behind the pranks(?)
Client: Kate
…
When I made my way to Harrison’s room, Liam greeted me with a smile.
Liam: Welcome, Kate! Here to commission Harrison?
Kate: Yes. I heard from Victor that Harrison started a limited-time detective agency, so I thought I’d give it a go.
Harrison: That works for me too. … After all, mysteries don’t just conveniently show up when you need them.
Harrison: So… what kind of case do you want me to solve?
Kate: I wouldn't call it a case per se, but… some strange things have been happening over the past few days.
…
Whenever I went to the palace to attend to official matters with Victor, I often had to wait a while before I could see him.
Victor had specially prepared a spare room for me to wait comfortably in.
The room, filled with fresh air flowing in from the open windows, felt comfortable to be in.
However,—
(... It happened again.)
The room was littered with twigs, scraps of paper, leaves, and bits of loose thread.
[ Flashback ]
Liam: Trash was scattered all over your room!?
Kate: Yes. The room stays perfectly clean on days I don’t use it, so I can’t think of a reason why this keeps happening.
Kate: But… occasionally, there would be beautiful flowers or sweet treats left on the desk.
Liam: Besides trash, there’s sweets and flowers too? That’s a weird combination.
Kate: My thoughts exactly. That's why I want to find out who’s doing this and why.
Harrison: … I have a hypothesis. Let’s head to that room to prove it.
[ Flashback End ]
…
When we arrived at the room, Harrison looked out of the window and muttered in satisfaction.
Harrison: Just as I thought… it was a robin.
Liam: Kate herself?
Harrison: Not her. I meant the one flying in the sky.
Harrison pointed out the window at a small bird flying.
Kate: Oh, it’s carrying a twig in its beak!
Liam: There’s a robin’s nest near the window. Looks like its gathering materials to build it.
Harrison: … The robin must've dropped those items while transporting them to its nest on the windowsill.
Harrison: When the windows were opened for ventilation, the items ended up inside the room.
(So that's why when the windows were kept closed while the room was unoccupied, the room stayed clean…)
(... I’m glad it wasn't someone pulling a prank on me.
Kate: … Hm? But birds don’t pick flowers or buy sweets, do they?
Harrison: Yeah. Which means there’s another culprit involved.
Harrison: Isn’t that right? — Ring Schwartz.
Harrison called out to the hallway through the open door.
And then, Ring himself walked into the room.
Ring: … I don't know what you’re talking about.
Harrison: Even though you were eavesdropping on our conversation?
Ring: I didn't hear anything. I only happened to be passing by.
Harrison: Yup, that’s a lie. You know something about the person leaving those gifts, don't you?
Ring: … I- I don't. I have no idea who might've left the biscuits and white flowers.
Kate: I’ve never told anyone about the type of sweets and colour of the flowers. I think only the person who left them would know.
Ring: T-that’s…
As Ring struggled to think of a response, Harrison and Liam exchanged glances at each other.
Harrison: … Looks like it’d be rude of us if we probe any further.
Liam: Yup, yup. Looks like some mysteries are better off left unsolved by detectives. We’ll leave the rest to you two~
Harrison and Liam left the room with teasing smiles on their faces.
Kate: Um, Ring…
–
Option 1: Ring misplaced those sweets and flowers.
Kate: Did you forget that you left the sweets and flowers on the table?
Ring: T-that’s right. It's not like I left them there on purpose or anything…!
Kate: I see… I’m sorry for taking them without asking.
Kate: I misunderstood, thinking they were for me.
Ring: Ah! No, um… sorry. I lied.
–
Option 2: Ring wasn’t the one who left the sweets and flowers.
Kate: So the one who left the sweets and flowers wasn't you, but someone else. Right?
Ring: Y-yeah… that’s right.
Ring averted his gaze, glancing around nervously. His actions were basically openly admitting he was the “culprit”.
(Guess I’ll have to play along to get the truth out of him…!)
Kate: What do I do… now I’m so curious about the culprit’s identity that I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at night.
Ring: That’s… a problem. You might fall sick if you don’t nap during the day.
Ring: And it’ll interfere with my task of keeping an eye on you…
Ring: … Sorry. That was a lie.
–
Option 3: “Did you leave me the sweets and flowers to cheer me up?”
Kate: Did you leave me the sweets and flowers to cheer me up?
Ring: … T-that’s…
Kate: Ring… please answer me.
Ring: S-stop that…! Don’t look at me with those sparkling eyes! Don’t come any closer!
I only took a single step closer to Ring, wanting to pressure him for an answer. But his face turned bright red as he became flustered.
And then—.
–
Ring: … I was the one who left the sweets and flowers. I wanted to cheer you up because you were feeling down.
Ring: But… I’m glad the rest was that bird’s doing and not a prank.
Kate: Thank you for worrying about me, Ring.
Ring: I-I wasn’t worried or anything. I just…
Ring: … I just thought you look better when you're smiling.
Ring: If I’m going to keep an eye on you under Dari’s orders… I’d rather be watching you smile.
The reason was unexpected, but it made me happy to know he did it while thinking of me.
Kate: … I have a request, Ring.
Ring: A request?
Kate: Next time, instead of secretly leaving things for me, come chat with me and we’ll have biscuits together.
Kate: Being with you will make me smile too.
Ring: Being with me makes you smile…?
Ring: … You’re odd.
Ring’s embarrassed smile filled my heart with warmth.
If I could control it, I’d never want to go through anything that would dampen my mood.
But… with Ring caring about me like this, I felt that I would be able to find my smile again, no matter how many times.
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikevil translations#otome#ikevil collection event#ring schwartz
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evergreen
𖤓 part viii. | series m.list | prev | part ix.
you weren't sure how things got to this point.
with one hand, you were clutching onto a fitstful of touya’s t-shirt and in the other you had your fingers wrapped around his outer forearm as it slung over your shoulder.
touya's body weight threatened to drag you down with him as you two stumbled through the woods. with his phone flashlight haphazardly swinging in all directions in his loose grasp, you could only hope you were heading towards the right direction.
"move your fucking feet, touya," you groan, dragging him forward.
"the fuck do you think i'm doing?" he slurs, accidentally kicking the back of your foot for the third time.
you felt hot against the side of his body at all points of contact. your palm was burning against his waist as were your fingertips wrapped around his wrist.
it's fine. it's fine. it’s fine
how did a couple shots turn into another quarter of that handle of vodka? how were you somehow managing fine?
the first time you gotten drunk at camp was during your last summer. hawks and touya made it a tradition to sneak in a bottle or two since you were fourteen, but it wasn't until you were seventeen when tomura was old enough to be invited to partake and the weight of peer pressure had finally cracked you.
that night, you were met with your creator in the woods behind hawks' cabin at an ungodly hour with a blanket hung over your shoulder and touya holding back a fistfull of your hair.
"everyone's first time is like this, don't be embarrassed." he assures, biting back laughter.
"did i ruin it?" you drunkenly sob over a pool of your own vomit.
“no, you were perfect.”
at least this wasn’t that.
you could’ve at least enjoyed this experience and been a bit tipsy, but the responsibility of dragging touya of all people back to your beds was harrowing enough to sober you up.
"my phone died." he groans.
"yeah, i can tell," you huff, staring at the ground in darkness.
"i'm scared."
"of the dark? you're a twenty three year old grown man, babe," you scoff "i'm sure the woods are more scared of you than you are of it."
"in the dark. in the woods. alone. with you." he hiccups.
"i don't bite."
"wish you did."
you hear the smirk in his voice- the familiar teasing tone that never failed to twist your stomach and make your throat go dry. you don't respond.
the buzzing of your cabin's porch light called out to you like an applause at the finish line and you swore you've never been more excited to be reunited with a rock hard twin sized mattress.
“you’re gonna have to walk up a couple steps, okay?”
you pull him closer to you. how cruel would it be to leave him on the front steps of the porch if he doesn’t cooperate? of course you’d bring him a blanket and pillow. it’d be nice to be woken up by the rising sun wouldn’t it?
“heard.” he mumbles, resting his cheek against the side of your head.
you curse to yourself once your cold hand meets the warmth of skin where his t-shirt had ridden up his waist.
you almost reflexively rip your hand away until your fingers twitch against the sudden divide between soft flesh and unfamiliar rough thick grooves running up his torso.
your eyes dart back and forth between the concentration sewn in his furrowed brows, and the front door just steps away. your fingers freeze in place. touya’s focus remains down at his feet. he doesn’t notice.
you let your fingers press into his skin as you help him keep balance up the steps. your index and middle finger push against thick rubbery skin as your ring and pinky finger sink into soft flesh. you don’t know what to make of it.
once you two practically fall into the front door, you think about giving him a glass of water, and laying him on his back. you could let your hands glide up his torso, bringing the ratty band tee up over his head and onto the ground, and you could look at him. really look at him.
that white hair he used to complain about and slather in black hairdye had grown past his ears. did you stop dyeing you hair because you lost the only person you’d let touch it?
he added a few new piercings to his collection. did you do these yourselves again?
his cerulean eyes still has that gleam to them. i still recognize you.
this is the first time you’ve let yourself think about him all day. every time he crossed your mind since your meeting this morning, you’ve been quick to chased it off with a distraction. maybe you were drunk, because for the first time in years, you’re wondering besides the obvious, what’s changed?
a lot could happen in five years. new people. freak accidents. it’s all inevitable.
maybe it's nothing.
a/n: somehow leaning towards canon adjacent dynamics and snippets eeeeeeep and i also feel like we r finally moving the story along kinda sorta so yaay
tags:
@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz @blu3-l0v3r @bakugouswh0r3 @kaldurahms-lover @thoughtswithbbg
#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha smau#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi mha#touya#touya x reader#touya todoroki x reader#mha touya#bnha touya#todoroki touya#todoroki toya x reader#touya smau#touya smau series#dabi smau
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from the moment jj stepped out of prison it was like he took over your life. you wonder if he was able to sniff you out, if he looked between the lines of those letters for that raw, aching, weak spot and dug in. or maybe he just got lucky.
but as you watched him overtake your apartment, filling the walls with the smell of smoke and alcohol and bodies reeking of motor oil you realize you didn't stand a chance. jj was very good with his words.
like when he convinced you to send a couple pictures in the mail.
you know what i look like. doesn't a man deserve to know who he's talking too?
or when he called as soon as he came out and convinced you to see him.
what? not excited to see me? then what was all that shit in your letters then?
or when he got you in that hotel room.
it's been a while and you promised, can't pussy out on me like this.
so really, it's you're fault you let him move in. when jj told you he needed a place to stay while on parole or he'd get locked back up you couldn't tell him no. after 8 years he deserved more than a taste of freedom. as long as he kept his act up it shouldn't have been too bad.
then one day you came home, music booming from your apartment, loud cacophonous voices echoing out and you knew you made a mistake.
but again, jj's good with his words and his hands and his mouth and by the time he was done you were hazy and pliant as he went back out to his friends. when you woke up the place was clean, the smoke aired out as much as possible and you figured you can ease up. and jj hadn't asked for anything really, he got a job, helped pay rent, met up with his parole officer and that one night of celebration was just that.
so you thought at least. but jj was smart, he pivoted.he knew he couldn't spring things like this out of nowhere, so instead he took a more delicate approach. coaxing whimpered agreements from your lips as he sucked your clit into his mouth, pounding out gasped 'yes's' as you shuddered when you would cum.
now was another one of those times, you were trying you best to crawl away, one hand reaching back in effort to put some space between you, but he wasn't letting up. if anything he was getting rougher, lifting a leg up to reach deeper inside.
"you're so fuckin perfect sweetheart," he punctuates his words with a hard thrust, wrapping a hand around your throat to force an arch and presses his lips against your ear, "lemme capture the moment. cmon, don't you wanna see how pretty you look?"
you can barely squeak on an answer before he drops you with one palm flat on the back of you head and the other spreading your cheeks open. whatever response you may have given dies on your tongue when you feel him spit on your puckered hole.
"s'just for me, i promise."
the hand on your head is gone, and suddenly you're spooked by a bright light. when you turn your head all you can see is the shine of the camera, obscuring the rest of him until he was nothing but a big, hulking shadow.
"no! jj turn it off, it's embarrassing!"
he doesn't answer, just slowing down his movements as he spreads you open for the camera with a deep groan, "look at that shit. takin it like a champ."
if you could see yourself you'd see the image of utter debauchery--lips swollen and wet, the edges of your hair curled and the hazy fucked out gaze in your eyes. you dreaded the moment you heard yourself on the playback, moaning and whimpering like a slut.
"look at the camera cupcake, say hi."
jj's words float right past you, all you can do is lift your hips and fumble a hand underneath your body to swirl over your aching clit with a soft whimper.
but he wasn't having that, not when he was making you his own personal star.
jj lands a sharp smack to your cheek, pulling out a sharp squeal from your lips when he wrenched you up by the back of your head and pressed tight and hot against your cervix, "i tell you to do somethin, it aint a suggestion, be a good girl and say hi to the camera."
you looked a pitiful, teary mess as you forced a wobbly smile, one that didn't last long before he was pounding into you again, dropping the camera back down to focus on the tight clutch of your cunt creaming all over him.
"the boys are gonna fuckin love this."
@whinyangel
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@mischievouslittlecreature urgh Mosley, been waiting for him to make his dreaded appearance 😬.
Incredible chapter Lily! I'm so relieved to see Lucy finally put her foot down when it comes to Lizzie. It needed to be said, but I can't see things lasting very long when it comes to her yo-yo behaviour 😤.
“Have Isiah keep an eye on him. They’re friends, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.” 👀, this feels like Michael all over again in The Shadow Of The Abattoir when Lucy's gut was telling her something was off. I know this is only a passing comment, but I've got a feeling this will pop up again in later parts.
I’m part of you forever, now, his and Luca’s voices, mingled into one, whispered inside her head where they now lived. This Is so haunting, because when you really think about it, Luca got it kinda easy. He's dead, but Lucy has to live on with the pain and reminder of what he did. And what's even worse is, she has to physically endure every day the damage his torture did to her body. It must feel like she's being cut over and over again. It's horrible 😭. I'm glad Tommy was there to relieve some of that pain and tension for her. If may forget to look after herself, but Tommy certainly won't ❤️.
As much as I hate the man, your description of him when Lucy is sat watching him and when he introduces himself after, was just perfect 👌🏼. I could literally see him in front of me... unfortunately 😂.
Lucy swore that for a second their eyes met, before she hastily looked away from him and back to Tommy. This gave me shivers 👀. I swear my brain conjured up this exact moment as I read it, and it's was so fucking creepy.
“How did I do?” he asked, once he found her standing at the usual spot where she always waited for him. I couldn't not mention this little line, it was so cute how he quickly sought her out to ask how he did 🥰. Arghhh, I wana squish his cheeks 😂.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” She felt Tommy tense beside her at Mosley’s words. Urghh he's gross. I nearly forgot that Tommy and Lucy are keeping their relationship secret, and that's why Tommy didn't react to this. But part of me now thinks that Mosley is onto them already and he did this on purpose. I wouldn't put it past him 😬.
Does that mean I get to play with him now?- ”Tommy chuckled, raising the lighter to his own cigarette before closing it with a click. “Easy, girl. I gave him until Monday to get us the full amount.” 🤣, I loved this whole exchange! I adore their playful flirty exchanges and how they're always under the guise of murdering or "dealing" with some one 🤭.
Loved the office quickie 🔥👌🏼. Possessed Tommy telling her to be silent when he can barely hold it together is everything!
A huge round of applause for Lucy 👏🏼! Lizzie deserved those hard truths, and she deserved to finally hear how incredibly selfish SHE has been. Lucy and Tommy have been nothing but accomodating towards her, and she's thrown tantrum after tantrum, demanding more.
I think the thing that continues to irritate me the most is, how she thinks Tommy and her relationship should he held to the same standards of a loving marriage when there's is a bloody contract 😬! She has all these demands that a wife should rightfully have, but she forgets that Tommy is only her husband by law. Gahhhh 😤.
You sap up all his love for yourself and leave nothing for the rest of us! You don’t care that him spending time with you means he’s not here with his family! Those children. 👀!! Yep, she's using the children again to place guilt on Lucy. This is such a low blow and she knows it, because if Lucy didn't exist and wasn't a part of Tommy's life, we all know he still wouldn't be giving her the love she thinks she's owed.
Lizzie continued to just stare at her with a look of both extreme sorrow and loathing, and then she picked up Ruby’s suitcase and shouldered past her without another word. Let her go 😌. I think they all need a long break from each other anyway.
Fantastic chapter! I'm so eager to see how things will play out with both Lizzie and Mosley 😬!
Part 26: Do You Love Me
Summary: Tommy and Lucy meet a man dangerous enough to frighten them both, and Lizzie reaches a breaking point.
Word Count: 6,543
Warnings: Smut, polyamory, chronic pain, references to violence, past torture, and past sexual assault.
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Chapter 2: Selfish
“Lizzie is going to be mad about that for a good long while,” Lucy commented, one hand stuffed into her trousers pocket while the other flicked ash from her cigarette down onto the cobblestones. Her eyes swiveled around, taking in the ash, flames, and glowing embers being emitted into the air by the nearby factories. All around them was the bustle of men and women going about their business, children with dirtied faces and knees marked up with scrapes and soot racing through the streets together. She dropped a few shillings into the cup of a young girl who wandered past them.
The train station that they were headed to wasn’t particularly far, and it was good for the people to see Tommy out amongst them, walking to work and taking the train like any other ordinary working man. So when they could, they made the trek to the train on foot.
She didn’t mind. It was nice to get out into the familiar smoky air, settled like a black cloud over most of Birmingham. Despite everything, it still felt like it was where she most belonged. In the dirt and flames of hell.
Though it did mean that they had to keep a professional distance from each other. No hand holding or letting their sides brush and bump. They couldn’t risk looking suspiciously close. Not even in Tommy’s own kingdom of Small Heath.
“Yeah,” Tommy sighed heavily. “But what else is fucking new?”
She cast him a regretful look. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Why? You didn’t even do anything.”
“It always feels like I’m the root cause of most of her anger towards you.”
“No; you’re not.” She felt him casting her a worried look. “It’s not your fault.”
She didn’t tell him that she didn’t believe that. It would only upset him. And he didn’t need to be worrying about her feelings on top of everything else already on his plate.
“She’s mad because you tell me things that you don’t tell her.”
“Which isn’t fucking new. That’s always how things have been. If she’s only realizing that now…”
“I think she’s more upset about it being thrown in her face than anything else.”
He shook his head, teeth grinding together. “I’m going to cuff Finn the next time I see him. Jesus Christ.”
“Arthur’s right about him needing educating. The kid can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.” As she spoke, she rolled her right shoulder back and forth, trying to ease the twinge that had settled in it. Tommy huffed.
“Yeah. I’ll put him in charge of running the football betting at the shop. Give him something productive to do.”
“Have Isiah keep an eye on him. They’re friends, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”
Tommy nodded. They caught the train just before it left the station, slipping into an empty compartment and closing the door, drawing down the blind that covered the window on the door, hiding them from any curious eyes that may have tried to peek in from the narrow hallway.
“May called earlier. She said that she was at a party that a couple other MPs were attending recently. One of them was asking about you,” Lucy settled into her seat, the train whistling shrilly before starting to move, steadily picking up speed as it pulled out from the station.
“Oh?”
“Oswald Mosley. He’s the MP for Smethwick. Also the Minister of the Duchy of Lancaster,” she fiddled with her rings, twisting them anxiously around her fingers. “May had…a lot of bad things to say about him.” Another throb of pain rocketed from the bottom of her shoulder blades up to the base of her neck, and she had to fight back a flinch. Fucking Luca. Dead and long gone, and yet still haunting her through the aches and pains that the torture he had put through had left.
Just like Matthew, her former fiancé and the man who instigated the gang rape that left her nearly dead and fleeing to Small Heath to escape marrying him. He too lingered with her still–despite his deceased status–through the scars he and his friends had left all over her body.
I’m part of you forever, now, his and Luca’s voices, mingled into one, whispered inside her head where they now lived.
“Lucy?” Tommy’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, his hand lightly touching her arm. She jumped a little, jerking back to life, eyes wide when they met his. “You alright?”
“Y-yeah. Sorry. Just thinking. What did you say?”
His eyes narrowed a fraction, and she was pretty sure that he sensed the slight waver in her voice that she attempted to cover up. But he must have decided not to comment on it if he did.
“What does Mosley want with me?” He instead repeated patiently.
“He didn’t exactly say. But May said that he was asking an awful lot about your moral standings on things. She thought that he might’ve been trying to feel out if you would be amiable to joining the new party he’s rumored to be building.”
“The fascists, you mean?”
“Yeah.” They had been sprouting up everywhere it seemed, lately. Germany. Italy. Even in England. It was spooky. “I could do some more research into him, if you think that it would be worth it.”
Tommy considered for a moment, blue eyes glancing out the window to observe the countryside they were whizzing by. “Yes, you do that. He’s gathering information about me, it would only be fair to return the favor.”
She nodded, a hand unconsciously going up to grasp at her still aching shoulder, trying to rub away some of the pain. But she never could seem to get the right angle…
“Are your shoulders bothering you?”
She looked up to find Tommy still watching her, observant eyes zoned in on where her fingers were subtly kneading. With a sigh, she dropped her hand, rolling the aching bone and muscle back and forth with a wince. There was no use trying to lie to him.
“A little.”
His head cocked, pushing up with his hands off the seat he was slumped in across from her to instead settle in the space next to her. “Here.”
“Tommy…!” she immediately started to protest, eyes going panickedly to the blinds covering the window of the door leading into their compartment.
“Don’t worry. No one will see with the blinds closed. And we’re just passing country right now,” he nodded towards the window, which sure enough was only displaying green fields and farmland. “Let me help. If you don’t do anything for them, they’ll be killing you by this evening.”
Spoken from true experience. He’d seen her when the pain got really bad, leaving her unable to sleep or do anything other than cry and writhe, as if trying to get away from the pains wracking through nearly her entire upper back.
Slumping in defeat, she nodded, turning to angle herself with her back facing him. His large hands found her shoulders, so big they nearly swallowed the entire expanse of each one in his palms–or maybe she was just that tiny. A small sigh of relief left her lips when he began rubbing gentle but firm circles into her skin, just like how the doctor had instructed him to when explaining ways to help reduce her pain. Slowly, he started to urge the tensed up muscles to relax enough to give her some relief.
“Did you not do your stretches yesterday?” he asked. Lucy shook her head.
“Forgot.”
She was supposed to do them everyday, to avoid things like this happening so frequently. But in all the chaos yesterday, they’d completely slipped her mind. And sleeping on the hard earth with nothing but Tommy to use as a pillow probably hadn’t helped things.
“Hm. Sorry; I should’ve reminded you.”
“Not your fault.”
He pressed his fingers a little harder into her skin. “How’s that feeling?”
“Better.”
He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just try to relax.”
“Pot meet kettle.”
“You want me to stop?”
“...No.”
He chuckled, the first real laugh she’d heard from him since before yesterday, and rested his cheek against her hair while his hands continued to work. Lucy allowed herself to melt a little under his touch, for a moment not worrying about them getting caught together, or about Lizzie, or Michael, or the company. She was able to just rest. Even if only for a moment. All the while Tommy gently rubbed the pain from her body.
∗ ∗ ∗
She so did love to watch Tommy speak in the house.
He stood there, amidst the smoke emitting from cigarettes and pipes, glasses perched on his nose, notes held in his hand, his voice ringing out, deep and rumbling. Pretty, eloquent words. He had them all in the palm of his hand and he knew it, the men seated in the benches around him, and those in the observation area with her all clinging to his every word. And when he was finished, those on his side of the room cheered and rapped their hands approvingly against the wood of their benches, the entire room thundering with the sound.
Lucy couldn’t help but think that the room looked like a theater.
Who were they performing for? Themselves? Each other? The people in the observation booths? All of them at once? It was hard to say.
She spotted him seated to Tommy’s right–her left. In the row below Tommy’s, the third man in from the aisle. His dark hair was slicked back, the mustache that decorated his upper lip meticulously groomed. One side of his lips pulled up at something Tommy said, his eyes gleaming. Lucy felt a shiver go down her spine. Humor may have been what was intended to cross his face, but those eyes of his were dead. No emotion to be found in them at all. They remained focused straight ahead as Tommy spoke, except for one specific, notable moment, when they flickered towards the observational benches where she, along with some secretaries, journalists, and other observers, sat to watch the men speak. Lucy swore that for a second their eyes met, before she hastily looked away from him and back to Tommy. Her skin crawled, the fine, fair hairs on the back of her arms standing up straight. Her very insides seemed to recoil, every instinct within her screaming to get up and run as far away from that man as she could possibly get.
She kept her eyes glued firmly at Tommy for the reminder of the time spent in the house, despite originally going there specifically to observe Mosley.
She felt that she’d gotten all the information that she needed to about what kind of person he was from just that quick glance alone.
Soon as they were done, she stood, gathering up her notes, tucking them securely in the crook of her arm and making for the exit where she would meet Tommy out in the hall.
“How did I do?” he asked, once he found her standing at the usual spot where she always waited for him. Lucy caught herself wishing desperately that she could have pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Splendid as always, love.”
He looked away, lips twitching up slightly, clearing his throat bashfully. “Come on.”
Lucy smiled a little to herself at the reaction, falling into step beside him, heading in the direction of their office.
“Did you get what you needed?” he asked, as they walked.
“Sort of.”
His brow raised. “Sort of?” he quoted back to her.
“I don’t like looking at him,” she explained in a lowered voice. “He makes my skin crawl.”
“Mm.” Tommy hummed in agreement.
“Lord Suckerby’s secretary said you’re welcome to come by anytime between now and the end of the day to see him,” she told him just as they were interrupted by a voice calling his name from one of the open doors they passed.
They stopped, turned, and were met face to face with Oswald Mosley, a barbed smile sliding into place across his features as those empty eyes bored into Tommy. Lucy’s skin roiled in response to his posh, clipped voice when he spoke, introducing himself and holding out a hand for Tommy to shake. His sly smile never once ceased, eyes never leaving Tommy’s as he took his hand and shook it firmly.
“Let me just say, you’ve come to my attention,” the words were spoken in a croon, with the smallest of head tilts. Lucy couldn’t fully decide if the intended effect was supposed to be predatory, or seductive.
Before Tommy could reply. Mosley’s eyes had snapped, sharp and quick, like a snake striking, to fix on Lucy. She had to fight back the urge to hide behind her lover’s back. The expression on Mosley’s face turned wolfish.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” She felt Tommy tense beside her at Mosley’s words. “Oswald Mosley,” he extended his hand towards her. Lucy felt ill at the thought of touching him, but forced herself to reach out and take his hand. It was cold as ice and dry as a bone.
“Lucy Winters,” she introduced herself, shaking Mosley’s hand once before letting it go, pushing away the urge to wipe her palm on her trousers. “I’m Mr. Shelby’s assistant.”
Mosley’s eyes darted between them, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a smirk settling on his lips. “Hm. Lucky you, Mr. Shelby.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Mosley, we have to get going.”
“Yes, yes, of course. But if you aren’t too busy, I would love the opportunity to speak with you more. Perhaps over drinks?”
Tommy considered. “You can call my office,” was all he ultimately said, hastily turning on his heel and starting down the hall again. Lucy hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone with Mosley.
“You’re really going to meet with him?” she asked, once they were far enough away to be out of ear shot.
“Just to hear what he has to say.” He looked over at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not sympathetic to his cause. But keep your enemies closer, eh?”
“Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mosley to appear spontaneously behind them. “He scares me a little, Tommy.” Her voice was a rough whisper, half ashamed at the omission.
“Me too.”
That got her attention, and when she looked at Tommy, she noticed something almost unsteady under the guarded armor he kept carefully in place across his eyes. Fear squeezed at her throat.
A man who was bad enough to make Tommy so frightened was something she hadn’t even thought existed.
“You head on back to the office,” he said, changing the subject with a small clearing of his throat. “I think I’ll go see Lord Suckerby now.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?” He shook his head. “I think it’ll make a stronger impression if I go see him alone.”
“You think he’ll give you any trouble?”
“Maybe. Depends on how hard he was hit by the crash.”
She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about that. Though she probably should have. “Everyone was hit by the crash.”
“Yeah.”
“If Suckerby can’t pay us…”
“He will. I’m not giving him any other choice.”
She pressed her lips together in a small smile. “I’d like first crack at him, if it comes to it.”
Tommy shot her an amused look. “Oh, is that so?”
“After seeing those photos that he wanted us to get for him, there are a couple of things I’d very much like to do to him.”
During the train ride to London she had flipped through the small package of photographs, letters, and cheques that Isiah had handed off to her while they were in Birmingham. Everything he and Aberama had collected from the man they killed in Chinatown who had been using the contents of that package to blackmail Suckerby. Her stomach had roiled at the contents of some of them, bile rising.
Lord Suckerby was one disgusting man. Maybe after he paid them, an unfortunate accident could befall him. Like falling out a window or getting run over by a bus.
Based on the thunderous, repulsed look that had crossed Tommy’s features when she showed him the photographs, Lucy thought he may very well be open to the idea. The envelope was now stashed safely in the inner pocket of her suit jacket, snug against her side. It would remain there until Suckerby paid what he owed them for their services.
“Alright,” Tommy said, eyes still dancing with fond, quiet mirth. “He doesn’t corporate, he’s all yours.”
She beamed, only just managing to restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck, stretching up on toes, and planting a firm kiss to his temple that would have left his fair skin stained with red smudges from her lipstick. “Thank you, Tommy,” she said instead, adding what she hoped came across as a playful, affectionate lilt to her voice. He glanced over at her, one edge of his lips nudging upwards, eyes softening.
They came to a hallway splitting off into two separate directions. This was where they parted ways. Her, turning left to head to their office, him, heading right, towards where Lord Suckerby’s offices were located.
“I’ll see you soon?”
He nodded. “This won’t take long.”
“I’ll phone his office when I get in and let them know you’re coming. So they’ll be expecting you.”
“Right.”
“And then you have a few more meetings this afternoon.”
“Mm.” He lowered his voice. “I thought that we’d stay at the apartment for the night, rather than go back to Arrow House.”
“That probably would be a good idea. It’d give Lizzie some time to cool down.”
“Exactly.”
She nodded, moving to head in the direction leading to their office. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
She walked backwards a few paces, fondly watching his broad back disappear around the corner before turning and making her way the rest of the short walk back to the little corner of Parliament that they presided over.
∗ ∗ ∗
She had not been back in the office long when Tommy returned, heavy footed steps booming against the floor and swiping his fringe from his eyes.
“How did it go?” Lucy asked, looking up from her desk.
“By the time I left the room, he was screaming my name,” he thumbed a cigarette from his silver case. Lucy raised an eyebrow.
“Is that a euphemism?”
Tommy snorted, plucking out a second cigarette to hand to her. “He only had twenty thousand to give to us.”
“Really?” That wasn’t even half of the fifty thousand pounds they’d agreed upon. She placed her cigarette between her lips and leaned forward towards the flame of his lighter when he held it up for her. “Does that mean I get to play with him now?”
Tommy chuckled, raising the lighter to his own cigarette before closing it with a click. “Easy, girl. I gave him until Monday to get us the full amount.”
She pouted a little, leaning back into her chair. “You’re going soft, Shelby.”
“No,” Tommy’s eyes danced amusedly. He reached out, brushing his thumb down her cheek. It was a risky move, since anyone could walk through the door at any moment, but she didn’t pull her face away from the tender touch. “I just want my fifty thousand pounds.”
“Mm. Whatever you say, love.”
His thumb inched into dangerous territory, ghosting over her bottom lip. She aimed a playful nip at it, and he drew his hand back with a grin.
“Cheeky mare.”
Lucy smiled at him, batting her eyelashes innocently in an ‘I’m-very-sure-I-don’t-know-what-you-mean’ kind of way. Though remnants of his smile lingered on his face and his eyes remained softened fondly, Tommy’s expression turned serious again.
“Hey, make that research into Mosley top priority, yeah? I wanna be ready when I next see him.”
“Yes, boss.” She gave him a little two finger salute. The corner of his lips kicked up again.
“Thank you.”
She watched him head through the double doors into his office, leaving them open behind him, a silent invitation for her to come keep him company if she wanted. Gathering up some of her papers, she rose from her chair to follow him.
It was, after all, an invitation that she never passed up.
∗ ∗ ∗
It was dark by the time they started to pack up to leave for the day. Tommy had one final appointment, but Lucy figured she would get a head start on closing the office up while he spoke with the journalist from the London Times. She eyed Michael Levitt as Adam–Tommy’s other secretary at Westminster–led him into Tommy’s office, noting the nervous way that the journalist kept fidgeting with his hat while he waited. A moment later, Adam came back out, casting an anxious look over his shoulder to where Levitt had taken a seat in front of Tommy’s desk.
“Mr. Shelby said I was to go home,” he came over to her desk, keeping his voice lowered. She nodded.
“Then go home. I’ll take care of locking everything up.”
“Right.”
She watched him gather up his things and head for the door, one ear focused on trying to overhear the mumbled voices of Tommy and Levitt. “See you tomorrow,” she told Adam.
“Goodnight,” he nodded. Soon as he was gone, she stood smoothly, snatching up the little journal perched on the corner of her desk and going to Tommy’s office. He had left the doors open, so she was able to slip in without so much as a sound, footsteps muffled against the rugs lining the floor.
Levitt was visibly sweating, stuttering over his words. Lucy raised an eyebrow, going to where Tommy’s coat was hung up to his right behind his desk. She slipped the journal into the pocket, giving it a tap twice, watching out of the corner of her eye how Tommy’s gaze followed her. He gave a barely indiscernible nod in acknowledgement, and she spun on her heel and left the room, letting her eyes meet the timid Levitt’s for a second before turning her head away.
She flitted around her and Adam’s office, putting things away and locking them up for safe keeping, even doing some tidying. The whole time, she listened closely to the words being murmured between Tommy and the journalist. At one point, not long before Levitt rushed from the room, she heard Tommy quoting directly from some of the notes she had written in the little journal during her time spent researching Levitt and his activities.
Soon as he was gone, she locked the door behind him and went back to Tommy’s office.
“I take it that could have gone better?” she moved to stand on his side of the desk, arms folded over her chest and back leaning against the hard wooden edge. Her head cocked as she watched him rub at his eyes.
“He was asking about Campbell and Polly.”
“I heard. You want him to be taken care of?”
Tommy wetted his lips, considering. “Yes,” he decided. “Last thing we need is a reporter sniffing around.”
���Yeah. He doesn’t seem like the type that we could just pay off. I’ll have some of our boys handle it at his apartment in Maida Vale. Quick and clean.”
“Have them do it with enough flourish that it’ll make other journalists nervous. To dissuade anyone else from trying anything for a while.”
“But not easily linked to us, right?”
“Right. And let’s just keep it between you and me. Last thing I need is more temper tantrums over my not sharing information.”
“Okay.”
Tommy leaned back in his chair, reaching out to smooth his hand up and down her thigh. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
His arms looped around her, and she laughed quietly when he pulled her closer, his head tipping back to stare up at her, blue eyes wide and mischievous.
“Adam went home?”
“Yes.”
“Hm…so it’s just us, then?”
Her fingers smoothed through his dark hair, fighting back a smirk. “Yes, it’s just us.”
With a purring sound from low in the back of his throat, he took hold of her hips and pulled her closer.
“Tommy!” She laughed as he maneuvered her into his lap, as if this was not something they had done dozens of times before. As if she had not let him fuck her on top of his big desk the very first day they spent in the new office, her face burying in his shoulder with her teeth sinking into the thick fabric of his suit jacket to try to keep herself quiet while his cock pounded into her.
He pushed open her suit jacket, popping free the first two buttons on her shirt and dipping his head to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. Wriggling in his lap, Lucy hissed at the feeling of his cock already hardening in his trousers, the material bulging against her.
Tangling her hands in his hair, she tipped his head back enough to kiss him, moaning softly as his hands smoothed up her thighs, urging her to rock against him and fumbling with her belt. It was late, most people working in the building would have already gone home for the evening. But they still needed to be quiet.
“Mm, did you lock the door?” Tommy asked in a low, rough murmur that went straight to her cunt, walls fluttering around nothing. The things he could do to her with just his voice alone were downright sinful.
“Yes.”
He made a noise of approval that turned her legs to jelly. “Good,” he lifted her from his lap for a microsecond to slip her loosened trousers and knickers down, hand burning hot where it slid up her exposed thigh. “Always such a good girl for me.”
“A-ah…” her head lolled back, eyes rolling both at the praise and the first brush of his thick fingers across her entrance, circling lazily around her clit.
“Gotta keep quiet, now,” he continued to mumble in her ear, breath warm where it fanned against her cheek. “Can you do that for me?”
She nodded vigorously. That was all she wanted; to be good for him. To make him happy.
Turning his head, Tommy pressed a kiss to her temple and gingerly slipped one finger into her while his thumb occupied itself with rolling over her clit. He kept his movements careful and slow until he got her more warmed up, waiting until slickness coated his hand generously before adding a second finger and increasing the pace of his pumps.
“There you go,” he hummed when he felt her start to flutter around him. “There you go, that’s a good girl…”
“Tom…” she whimpered, biting her lip to try to keep herself quiet, not wanting to disappoint him by letting any sounds slip out to be heard beyond this room.
“I know,” he soothed. “That’s my girl. Bite down on my shoulder if you need to.”
She did just that, nosing the material of his clothing aside to taste his bare skin between her lips. Tommy groaned, low and quiet but impossibly deep, at the first sting of her teeth against him. Her walls tightened, moments away from bursting. His fingers curled within her, pressing right into the spot that made her see stars.
“Let go,” he ordered in a sweet whisper aimed directly into her ear, and she bit down hard to try to hinder what would have been an incredibly loud moan as her orgasm wrecked through her like a firecracker, bright lights exploding behind her eyes, entire body shuddering with it, pressing close to him instinctively.
Tommy guided her through it, slowly coaxing her down from her high until she slumped against him.
“Good. Very good, sweetheart.”
She made a happy little noise at the praise, snuggling closer to his neck, nuzzling at the bitemark she’d left on him. Tommy stroked the back of her head, kissing her hair. Sneakily, she snaked a hand down between their bodies to palm the bulge in his trousers, and it was his turn to try to stifle his noises of pleasure, teeth locking down tight around the groan rising from his throat.
Arms wrapping around her, he lifted her seemingly effortlessly off of his lap, setting her down on the edge of his desk while he stood, hands dropping down to fumble with his trousers. Lucy felt her mouth water at the sight of his long, impossibly thick erection bobbing against his stomach after being released from its confines. Tommy gave himself a few good, languid strokes, jaw dropping open as his eyelashes fluttered, face inches from hers. Lucy spread her legs wider, encouraging him in between them. Her hands grabbed at handfuls of his suit jacket while he lined himself up, sliding in with one deep thrust.
“Oh,” Tommy rested his cheek against hers, hands flexing where they landed on her hip and thigh.
“Quiet, remember?” she teased slightly, trailing her fingertips through his hair. He shivered, letting out a breathless chuckle followed by a kiss to her cheek. Burying his face in her neck, hands bracing on her body, he started to move. She could tell that he was trying to start out slow and give her time to adjust to his considerable size, but all it took was her purposefully squeezing around his cock and wrapping her legs around his waist, and his efforts went up in smoke.
He bucked into her like a man possessed, low grunts muffled against her throat, a few trinkets rattling on the desk from the force of his thrusts. Lucy tucked her face back in against his shoulder, biting down hard on her bottom lip to try to contain her whimpers and moans as his swollen tip rubbed right up against her g-spot with each roll of his hips.
“Shit. Squeezing me so tight, love,” Tommy rasped out, hand slipping between their bodies to rub at her clit. “Give me another one, yeah? I know you can, sweetheart.”
“Mm…” Her back arched, pressing her clothed breasts into his chest. Her legs tightened around him, and her jaw clenched with the effort it was taking for her not to let the volume of her noises get too high. His cock twitched and throbbed inside her, in the way that she knew meant his orgasm was imminent. The pleasure built like steam rising in a kettle, tension mounting until she felt moments away from bursting. Her walls spasmed uncontrollably around him, as if wanting to keep him locked in place within her for all eternity. Tommy hitched her thigh up a little higher on his hip, allowing his cock to get just that much deeper into her, and applied more pressure to her clit with his thumb.
She came at the same moment that she managed to grab his face and bring his mouth crashing down onto hers, each of them swallowing what would have been massive moans as they both came fantastically. Her walls clamped down around him, insides fluttering with the force with which she came. Tommy’s chest vibrated under her palms with his growl as he finished, grinding his tip in as deep as he could go while spurting jets of seed into her.
Lucy released a blissful sigh, closing her eyes and riding out the waves of her climax while basking in the feeling of him spilling his load into her.
Tommy slumped forwards against her, face nestling in the crook of her shoulder, lips pressing to her neck delicately whilst he relaxed. His arms wound around her in a warm embrace, a quiet purr leaving his chest when she stroked the back of his head.
“We should go,” Lucy finally broke the silence that had stretched on between them. Tommy nodded, shifting to carefully pull out of her, tucking himself back into his trousers and straightening out his clothes. He plucked a handkerchief from his pocket for her to use to clean the mix of their releases from her thighs, then let her hold onto his shoulders when she hopped off the edge of the desk and regained her balance.
“Have you got everything locked up?” he asked as she pulled her slacks back up.
“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things from my desk to take with us.”
“Good. I wanna get out of here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Tommy Shelby eager to leave work? Is there a special occasion I’m not aware of?”
He rolled his eyes, giving her hip a light pinch. “No occasion.” He swiped a few locks of hair off of her forehead and cradled the back of her neck, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips while his eyes looked her up and down. There was something heated in them that made her thighs squeeze together. “Except that I’m not even close to done with you yet.”
∗ ∗ ∗
“You know, Frances, if there were to be a snap election in this house today, I wouldn’t win it. Even if I were running against the devil himself,” Tommy remarked to their housekeeper once they’d gotten home. Frances shot him a sympathetic look.
“I’d still vote for you,” Lucy offered. Tommy gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Thanks, love.”
He went off to go talk to Charlie where he was sulking in the stables while Lucy ventured upstairs, wandering through the winding hallways until she heard the hum of Lizzie and Ruby’s voices. Coming to a halt in the doorway of Ruby’s room, she watched them where they were seated together in the rocking chair by the window, Ruby in Lizzie’s lap, head resting on her mother’s chest while Lizzie read to her from a book.
“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby said when she spotted her. Lucy smiled.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Is Daddy with you?”
“He’s down at the stables.”
She let out an excited squeal, jumping off Lizzie’s lap and racing for the door.
“Ruby, what have I told you about running in the house!?” Lizzie shouted after her, but the little girl was already long gone. Lizzie rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head and closing the book. As Lucy watched her stand to put it away on a shelf, she noticed Ruby’s suitcase laid out on the bed, half filled with clothes.
“Going somewhere?”
Lizzie sighed, glancing over at the suitcase, then back at Lucy. “I’m taking Ruby to Arthur’s.”
Lucy stared at her. “Why?”
Lizzie’s lips pulled back from her teeth. “Because, I realized this afternoon that I’d rather swallow horse shit than sit down and eat dinner with you and him.” She began to zip up Ruby’s luggage. “I need to get away. From both of you. At least for a while.”
“You could have phoned and we would’ve stayed at the apartment in London like we did last night if you really don’t want us here this weekend.”
“I don’t know if it’s going to be for just one weekend.”
Lucy straightened. “What do you mean?”
Lizzie didn't reply.
“You cannot be serious. Now, Lizzie? You want to toy around with the idea of splitting up with your husband now? Of all fucking times?”
“He made me look like an idiot at the family meeting!” Lizzie burst out, head lifting and tears in her eyes. “Everyone else knew about the bloody hit in Chinatown except for me! I am his wife! I should be informed of these things first! Especially before you!” The way that she spat out that last word, so full of hate and disgust, made Lucy flinch.
“For fuck’s sake, Lizzie! There’s a lot of shit here that you are more than justified in being unhappy about, but this? Really? This is where you draw the line?” A humorless laugh left her lips. “I hate to break it to you, but him not telling you things is a normal occurrence. Ada didn’t know about what was happening in Chinatown either.”
Lizzie looked away, irritably picking up a stuffed animal off of Ruby’s bed. Lucy took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was much calmer.
“This is not worth throwing a bloody temper tantrum over, Lizzie.”
“I’m tired of being disrespected,” she lifted her head. “I’m his wife, and he needs to start treating him as such.”
Lucy groaned, raising her palms to her face, fighting back the urge to scream into them. “Just once, could you knock it off with the attitude?”
“Easy for you to say, when you always get everything that you want–”
“Oh, do I, now?” Lucy rounded on her. “You think that this,” she gestured vaguely, “is what I want? To have to share him with a woman who openly hates me?”
“I don’t hate you–”
But Lucy talked right over her. “To have to live with the constant worry that you might push me out or he might change his mind and throw me out on the street? That it could happen like that,” she snapped her fingers. “And I could lose everything? Do you think that I wanted to live with that dangling over my head at all hours of the day, Lizzie?” She met the taller woman’s stormy eyes levelly. “We’re all getting a shit deal out of this, so stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, and make the best of it,” she moved to the door.
“You are so fucking selfish, you know that!?” Lizzie shrieked after her, finally fully exploding. “You sap up all his love for yourself and leave nothing for the rest of us! You don’t care that him spending time with you means he’s not here with his family! Those children,” she pointed towards the window that looked out to the stables, “deserve a father who prioritizes them over running after his fucking mistress.”
“Don’t you dare try to use the kids–”
“Well, somebody in this household has to advocate for them!”
“Don’t act like you aren’t just using them as a way to try to get what you want.”
Lizzie’s lips slammed into a thin line. “I’m going. And I’m taking Ruby with me.”
“But not Charlie?” Lucy challenged.
“If I thought that I could take him without Tommy tearing me apart over it, I would,” Lizzie’s voice had suddenly grown very quiet. “I’d take the two of them far away from you both and never look back.”
Lucy shook her head, exhausted. “He’s not that bad, Lizzie. Compared to what he could be? He’s not that bad at all. He doesn’t hit you. He loves those kids…” she could see from the expression of stone on Lizzie’s face that none of her words would be able to reach her, and yet she tried anyway. “He’s got so much to deal with right now. Please don’t make it worse for him.”
Lizzie continued to just stare at her with a look of both extreme sorrow and loathing, and then she picked up Ruby’s suitcase and shouldered past her without another word.
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#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby series#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders series#peaky blinders imagine#cillian murphy
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Suranne Jones in Gentleman Jack (2019) Let's Have Another Look at Your Past Perfect
S1E5
Reverend Ainsworth arrives in Halifax and, with encouragement from Mrs. Priestley, sets his sights on Ann Walker. Meanwhile, Lister presses on with the transformation of her estate, but her ambitious plans threaten to lead her into trouble...
*Amelia Bullmore (Eliza Priestley) & Suranne Jones (Anne Lister) also worked together on Scott & Bailey (2011) as DCI Gill Murray & DS Rachel Bailey respectively.
#Gentleman Jack#2019#tv series#Let's Have Another Look at Your Past Perfect#S1E5#Suranne Jones#Reverend Ainsworth#1830s#Halifax#West Yorkshire#lesbians#diary#based on true story#Anne Lister#relationships#just watched#biography#drama#history#romance#period drama
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Bigger in Texas
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel won’t fit.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)
Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠
Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.
Word count: 2.3k
This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.
The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.
You, who were young enough to be his daughter.
You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.
You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.
But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.
“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”
It was simple.
“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”
And true.
The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.
“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.
Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.
Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.
It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.
“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.
“He’s so big.”
Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.
Again.
You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.
“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”
You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’
And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.
He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.
But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:
“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”
Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.
And his vision blurred more at that word, him.
“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”
Another quarter-inch.
“—so, so bad.”
“Daddy!”
Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.
You whimpered again.
“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”
Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.
“Honey, it’s—”
“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.
“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”
“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”
Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.
He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.
“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”
That made you go still.
You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.
“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”
You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.
“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”
You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.
“Be brave…and patient for me.”
From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.
Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.
Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.
It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.
“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.
With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.
“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”
His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.
“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.
“He’s so…” you trailed off.
You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.
“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.
“I know.”
This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.
“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”
“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”
“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”
Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.
Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”
Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.
“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”
Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.
“You think so, sweet pea?”
“I know so. I need it.”
“Need him?”
“Y-Yes.”
How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.
Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.
As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.
“Da-a-ddy. Please.”
You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.
Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:
“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”
It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.
So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.
Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.
“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.
His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.
“Daddy.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.
He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.
“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”
You shook your head. Cried a little more.
Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.
“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”
“Y-Yeah?”
His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.
Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.
“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”
It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.
“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.
“Say what?”
“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”
The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.
His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.
“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”
You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.
And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.
Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.
When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:
“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”
His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.
It was a small pulse, at first.
Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.
Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.
He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.
You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.
You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.
He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.
It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.
Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.
Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.
Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.
“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”
can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA
it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔
#I WROTE THIS IN A FUGUE STATE LISTENING TO KEITH WHITLEY#IF IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE IT’S PROBABLY JUST BC I’M SLEEP-DEPRIVED AND STUPID#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic
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Hot To Go!
Synopsis. Getting hit by a séx technique? No problem! Of course, you’re there to help.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx cursed technique (he’s affected), mating press, they’re REALLY needy, fúck or díe, oraI (fem receiving), jealousy (Nanami’s), bréeding, marathon séx, teary Gojo, creampíe, spítting, cúmplay, thígh ríding, fíngering, VERY pússydrunk boys, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.5k (woah)
A/N. I needed this outta my mind so bad y’all omg. Have a lovely day babygirls <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Just sit on it, woman!
“Please…” Toji drawls, slow and syrupy around your puffy clit. “Who do you think you are, doll? Just sit.”
Now, the problem wasn’t that strange, low-level curse from Toji’s latest job. No, don’t make him laugh - he barely felt whatever that weak cursed technique was. The problem was the way he’d trudged back home, not even thinking of reaching for that door handle before it hits him.
Suddenly too-sensitive nose getting a whiff of your shampoo - all the way from inside the bedroom.
All the way to that dangerous, ugly little part of himself that says that if he doesn’t get a taste of you right now then neither of you are making out of this alive.
And it’s all you can do to gasp, “T-Toji what happened?”
“You. You happened. N’ I don’t care if I hafta oh-” he cuts himself off, hot lips surging forwards - addicted - to place another slow, wet peck on the sweet sweet juices beading at your cunt. “-if I hafta fuckin’ suffocate, m’gonna die if you don’t just sit, goddammit.”
“Fuck!” you keen when two, calloused hands of Toji’s loop around your shaky thighs. Pulling, dragging you down to press your entire weight down onto his slutty mouth. “You’re being so…”
He barely even hears you - too caught up on the way your pretty cunt was drooling down his waiting tongue.
Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his face up, up, up to let your heady juices slide down his throat. “What? Filthy? Needy? Like a bitch in heat?”
Each hissed out little word has you jolting on top of him - and Toji only tightening his bruising grip with a pained grunt to stop you from disconnecting with his ruthless lips.
“Ohhh fuck stay still, woman. S’the stuff of heaven. You’re so lucky you weren’t anywhere near me after that fight.” he spits at the feeling of you clenching around him, mouth moving a mile a minute even when he slips it past your swollen folds, dragging the muscles along all your hidden sweet spots. “So lucky. So sweet- so perfect thought I was gonna die without a lil’ taste-”
A shiver runs down your spine - all the way down to where Toji was messily making out with your ravaged pussy. Stretching you out, milking himself on your sloppy entrance. Animalistically, even.
You squeal, “Think I’m gonna die.”
“Shit- and you think I care? Just want- ngh-” And that sinful little scar rubs up against your sensitive folds when Toji grins knowingly, so deep now that his nose was pressing against your pelvis, jaw grinding against you. Big arms orchestrating each mean, long drag of your sloppy pussy up and down his pretty face. Up and down up and down up and- “What did I say? This is all because of y-you, y’know?”
And Toji’s tone is so low, strangled - that the answer almost comes out as a whine. It makes you snap your glassy eyes down to look - to gape at how utterly wrecked he already was.
Dark hair curtaining those pussydrunk, half-lidded eyes, your slick glossing prettily over his plump lips - all the way down to his cheeks, his sharp jawline. And only getting sloppier with each movement,
“Me?” you blink tearily - fuck, when did it get so good you started crying? And why was Toji much the same? Dark eyes wet and miles away.
“Mhm.”
“S’your fault for being so- so-” As if the words were failing him, Toji’s only moves to suck harsher on your throbbing clit. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid ah! ah! ah! “-like this.”
Even through the haze of it all, you manage out a huff of laughter, “Like this?”
For this, you get a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass. Thick fingers soothing over the sting almost immediately so that you’re not bowing your body away from Toji’s persistent mouth, “S’it so bad if I wanna taste my sweet girl?.” He moans, sounding so genuinely pained, “But I need you- need to taste this fuuuck pretty cunt so bad. Gonna die if I don’t- if I-”
“Hngh- yes- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” your fingers threat their way into his soft hair. Tugging and pulling with each harsh lap at your cunt. Your body arching like a slut as if on command when he speeds up, “-feels too good. M’so close fuck-”
“Be messy, be loud- I don’t fucking care.” he hisses, brows furrowing in concentration. And whatever’s left of that practical little part of your hazy mind wonders whether it doesn’t hurt - whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up, mouth aching. “Jus- jus wan’ you to cum on m’tongue. You’ll let me taste you, right, doll? Want it want it want it so fuckin’ bad-”
You didn’t know who wanted you to cum more - you, or your dear boyfriend.
But when you do - you have you answer.
“F-fuck, Toji.” your gummy walls clench around where he was bullying his tongue inside. “M’cumming- M’cumming m’cumming m’- ah!”
“Give it t’me. Give it allll to me that’s it.” Because Toji’s lapping at each and every syrupy drop of your juices, moaning into your cunt as you ride him through your high. Addicted. The vibrations having your hips stuttering and unstable on top of him.
He lets his thumb draw lazy, tight circles on your sensitive clit. Unstopping - even when you’re blinking back your spotty vision, tears crinkling at the corner of your eyes at the overstimulation.
Even when you try to pull away from his ruthless mouth - little, messy strings of spit and slick snapping in the nonexistent distance.
Even when he still darts his tongue out hastily to taste you sloppily, “One more - didn’t get enough of m’fill.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Can’t- won’t wait!
Everyone knows that your husband Nanami was protective - rightfully so. Everyone knows that just a toe out of line could have the stoic man snapping - showing off exactly why he was the one that put that pretty lil’ ring on your finger.
But never like this.
Never so…crazed.
And it’d only taken one too many flirty comments from some new intern in the time it’d taken Nanami to rush over there from his latest jujutsu mission. Just for your husband to drag you away from the party, barely paying attention to anything else.
Though, when you caught a glimpse of his eyes you didn’t think he could - gaze strangely hazy, breath a bit shorter, skin flushed a delicate pink.
“Can’t believe it.” he groans, pressing you up against the wall of the nearest empty room he could find. Fat cock just nudging past that feeble ring of resistance of yours. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Fuck-”
You’re jumping slightly with each little profanity spat into your open mouth, bleary eyes blinking up at your Nanami. Managing out, “Is everything hah- alright, Ken?”
“Can’t fucking believe it.”
There it was again.
That low, accusing little mantra - this time panted out into the side of your racing pulse. Breaking ever-so-slightly at the end when Nanami’s bullying his swollen cock deeper past your plushy walls, the curve of his girth having you arch like such a slut against the wall.
Nanami growls, “Can’t fucking believe-” he slides two hands under your weakening thighs easily, picking you up like some little ragdoll to be split apart on his cock. Murmuring against your mouth, “Can’t believe you won’t let me jus’ fuck you right then and there, my love.”
You don’t know what shocks you more - Nanami’s words or the way he’s immediately letting gravity do all the work, sliding your dripping cunt so easily down his cock. Inch by fucking inch.
All up until your pelvis was flush against those neat tufts of blond at his base. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Nanami so impatient.
“Thought I was gonna die without your sweet cunt.” He was barely even breathing. Eyes glassy - crazed. Voice so deep and ragged when he whispers into your ear. “Should’ve jus’ let me fuck you out there, right in the middle of the ball. Made a scene n’ showed them all please- we could go back-”
And it takes you a few seconds to realize that this is Nanami. Your Nanami.
Seriously, what the fuck happened on that mission?
“But- what?” you squeal, gummy walls swallowing him up so readily despite your confusion. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”
And this little comment makes Nanami physically stop, dark eyes glinting with something so dark - dangerous. Brows furrowing as he utters, “Nothing. Did you forget that I’m your husband, darling?” Having you scrambling to hang onto his broad shoulders as he walks over to splay you out so prettily on a nearby desk. “Or do I jus’ hafta remind you?”
It’s all it takes for Nanami to thrust up into your heavenly cunt. One hand holding you still on the cool desk, while the other just ravages your throbbing clit in time with his needy cock.
“F-fuck, Ken— oh- yes yes yes-”
Fat tip pressing up against your g-spot like he had a point to prove, spearing you at each harsh, bullying thrust that has you pushed further and further up the desk. Over and over.
The desk shifts ever-so-slightly with every smack of Nanami’s heavy balls against your ass. Creaking - but not loud enough over your obscene moans.
“Stop-” he chokes out at the feeling of your pussy being inched away from him. You weren’t running from him that easily. Which is exactly the thought ringing through his mind when Nanami circles his large hands underneath your thighs, dragging you right across to meet his sculpted front. “Stop fuckin’ running away.” Nevermind the fact that you weren’t - voluntarily at least. “Please- need it so badly, s’like m’burning without ya. You’re gonna take my cock like a hah- g-good lil’ wife, okay?”
And Nanami knows maybe he should slow down - maybe ease you into it, first. But either it was that stupid fucking cursed technique talking or maybe the sight of some loser being all starry-eyed at you, he’s fucking you into the desk so mean.
“Should’ve- would’ve.” he’s grunting, and you already know what he’s talking about. “Saw you in this pretty lil’ dress and fuck darling you don’t know how h-hard it was to ngh keep m’self in check.” Teeth nipping and leaving little bite marks down your neck, and shit if you were in any better state of mind you’d have had the rationality to be worried about them - about how people would talk if they saw those. “N’ I would’ve loved to. Don’ know how much I fuck- w-worship this pussy, my love. How much I was dreaming about it all day long.”
The creaking grows louder.
Your head is spinning right now, “All day long?”
“Mhm…” Nanami slurs, a loose little smile playing on his lips. “Always do. But today- fuck, today. Needed to feel you or I thought I was gonna ngh- die. Or worse.”
“Or worse.”
Bang!
In a split-second, you’re back bunched up in Nanami’s arms - his cock still buried deep within you. Moving. Merciless. Even though his eyes flicker downwards at the pile of wood that used to be a desk. “Lose you that promotion.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Use?
“Use me.”
“What?”
“Use me, goddammit.”
Geto sounded almost hysterical now - words ragged, a pitch higher than normal. Staring at you with that drunk, wide-eyed gaze while you perched right on his muscular thigh. Looking as bewildered as you felt at that moment when he lets out a humorless little laugh, “That curse- fuck I should’ve known before ingesting- shit.”
Fingers frantic - almost tearing through the fabric of his boxers as he removes them feverishly.
And his cock didn’t just look rock-hard no- it looked so so angry. So painful. Flushed a pretty red at his weepy tip, leaking down, down, down straight to where you’d unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.
“O-oh.” he gasps in relief when you’re dragging your fist up his cock. Head throwing back to show off that long, beautiful neck - dusted with a blush going all the way down. “Could cum from just this fuuuck.”
And this was nothing like the Geto Suguru you were used to - the sweet talker who’d have you falling apart with just a few words. The one that treated sex like a game - where you were always his pretty lil’ loser.
“Care to elaborate, Sugu?” you flash him a smug smirk - one that makes his swollen cock twitch traitorously in your hand. “Shit, you’re so needy right now you could cum untouched.”
“You little bitch.” he spits out, greedy gaze stuck on the way you were beginning to drag your sloppy cunt up and down his toned thigh. In a way that makes it impossible for Geto to tear his eyes away from the way you were intentionally catching your throbbing clit on each and every dip of muscle, spreading your puffy folds. “You know what I mean.”
You’re batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, grinding your hips down harder. “I don’t.”
As if to prove your point, you squeeze around his aching dick even harder, pumping your fist all the way from his soaked base up to his sensitive slit.
Immediately, he bucks his hips up wildly, precum smearing a glossy sheen all over your wrist. “F-fuck you.” he spits. “You little-” And oh you should’ve known that Geto was Geto despite whatever he’d been cursed with. That it’d only take him a split second to reach a hand over to smear the mess of sweet sweet juices you were trailing over his thigh. Bullying his dripping wet fingers between your lips, “You talk too fuckin’ much, gorgeous.”
Oh.
Oh, you were fucked.
“You really think I’d let you g-get away with hah that much?” Geto drawls against your ear, fingers dancing down to control your movements riding his thigh. “N’ after ngh- I was so nice.” He was pulling - dragging you at a mean little pace now. “Should’ve just shut up n’ taken it. Should’ve just used me when I asked.”
It’s like he’d forgotten all about his lust-drunk little state.
You’re mewling, muffled around his thick fingers. Something that only makes his lips curl up into a syrupy, smug grin, “Who’s cumming untouched now? Got somethin’ to fuck- say?”
You do - and you’re thumbing teasingly under Geto’s neat slit, reveling in the way that makes his harsh little rant die in his throat. Moving your hand up and down to first his cock needily in hasty, long movements like you were trying to fuck something delicious out.
“You little minx hah-” he’s pressing his fingers right at the back of your tongue, hot mouth kissing away the salty tears welling up behind your eyes. “S-so dirty.”
And it was dirty - your hands coated in Geto’s sheen of precum, his thigh glossy with your slick. But neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted - not one bit.
Not when Geto was forcing down your hips harder, bouncing his knee to match your slutty little tempo. Faster. More desperate. Letting you concentrate on driving him fucking insane with your soft hands - palming and running only on the need to making him cum. To have him spill so hotly all over your hands.
“Yeah, oh God that’s right- Use me use me use me-” Geto’s mouth slacks open, eyes heady and cracked only to eye the way you’re clenching and quivering around nothing. Your hips only stuttering - getting sloppier and sloppier with each weighty, hard slide down his thigh. He groans, “Fuck fuck fuck m’close-”
“M-me too-” you whine, voice breaking so pathetically at the end. “So much for coming untouched.”
Close - too close.
Close enough that you’re barely even noticing the way Geto’s stiffening up underneath you. Breath hitching in his throat before-
Slam!
“Wha-” Your back hits the plush mattress - so fast that you almost have half the mind to wonder whether this was some figment of your imagination. But, no, Geto’s hot tip nudging at your puffy folds was real. Dangerous. Waiting for just the right moment to rip you apart. His bated breath against your ear was real - very, very real.
“You didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you, gorgeous?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “S-sex?”
Oh, Choso sounded so fucked out just from uttering that.
And you feel the way your cunt clenches at that broken, almost-whiny little plea coming from your best friend’s mouth. Big, dark eyes blinking up at you dazedly in a way that makes you tighten your legs around his waist, pinned to the floor of- fuck, which curse site was this again?
“Mhm, Cho.” you hum, drinking in the shallow pants he lets out into your mouth when you slide his leaky, angry tip between your swollen folds. Barely teasing him between your slit, “S’the only way to get rid of this technique, right?”
Clothes are torn off, breaths coming out in pants. You don’t know if Choso registers your words - shit, you don’t know if he even hears you right now.
Barely even breathing as he slides two shaky hands of his to rest up at your hips. Giving you a reassuring squeeze once. Twice. Before pulling you down in a split second.
“Yes!” the word bursts out from his lips. Choso drags your body up, up, up his throbbing length like some ragdoll - until his pretty pink tip was just circling around your sloppy hole - only to bring you all the way back down again. Barely even halfway in yet, but the stretch - fuck, the stretch had you arching for more. “Yes yes yes yes yes fuck yes if you feel just like- like heaven-”
You never thought your sweet Choso would be so needy. Would buck his hips so ferally into your syrupy sweet cunt until you were second-guessing why it ever took so long to do something like this.
Until today’s fateful little mishap with another curse, that is - and oh, you’ve never been more grateful for that stray cursed technique.
“Hngh-” you screw your eyes shut when the curve of his dick brushed against your sweet spots - unforgivingly. Spreading the fat of your ass in two big hands, trying to squeeze himself inside deeper. Again. And again and again and- “S-slow down, Cho–”
‘Slow down?” Choso breathes from below you - sounding so genuinely bewildered. Still thrusting up in stubborn, long grinds. “Y-you want me to slow down? After- after this?” He’s giving a mean thrust into your gummy pussy, eyes widening down at the heavenly view of your puffy lips sucking him up. Spread needily, bulging around his girth in a way he’d have felt sorry for if he was in any better state of mind. “Slow down- Yeah, gotta- gotta slow down.”
But he only fucks up into you harder. Stronger. Like it killed him to do anything but take you right now and right there on the floor. Messy - no rhythm or rhyme of his hips, just running on pure need and the feeling of you milking his poor cock.
And the idea of that - of your best friend being drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his aching cock - has you a little more breathless than you’d like. Plushy walls clamping down tight.
Almost immediately, Choso’s throwing his head back, gasping out a stuttering, “O-oh so ngh- that’s what it feels like. Always- always imagined if…” You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence because two long fingers of his are latching on shyly to your sensitive clit, rolling softly.
And if he were any less of a man, Choso would be cumming on the spot - fuck, he’d be passing out.
“Fuuuuck tighter than I’d dreamt of.” he whimpers, cock twitching wildly inside your dripping cunt. Deft fingers find a lewd little rhythm to toy with your ravaged clit. “Have to slow down- have to- can’t.”
He was out of control now. Sloppy. Teary praises leaving those pretty pink lips with each bullying piston of his hips.
“Ch-Choso!” you whine, dragging your hips down to meet his sloppy cadence.
Choso’s eyes flutter to the back of his head, grunting “Yes, yes that’s it, my baby. Say my name.” Using his inhuman strength to put pressure on your hips. “Take it- take it please. Wan’ see you full of m’cock.” All the way until the heady bedroom echoes with a loud smack! his fat head kissing your cervix, heavy balls imprinting against your ass.
And then it’s like something snapped.
Choso’s sanity - his restraint. Possibly you by the end of this.
Because in all of two seconds, he’s flipping the two of you over. Your back pressed against the cool floor, legs thrown over his shoulders until your knees were folded all the way up into your tits, Choso groans into your ear at the all new angle.
Not wasting a second longer before fucking you in this mean little mating press, abs rippling with each heavy, calculated movement.
“Baby…” Choso drags his lips up your neck, sharp canines biting down on your earlobe. Gentle - the complete opposite of his rock-hard cock. “Think if I cum inside s’gonna solve the curse?”
Oh.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - True kinda love
You thought you’d seen everything there is about the king of curses. Anything from those smug kisses he’d give you after taking care of “scum curses” for fun to the times he’d begrudgingly watch sappy movies with you - only to fuck away your tears at the end.
You thought.
But oh you’d never seen him like this - yukata torn apart, no longer fitting how much bigger was, how much stronger his form was. His true form.
Muscles just bulging on all four arms, eyes half-lidded, dark nails leaving neat little indents where he held your squirming hips sat prettily on two matching, painfully hard cocks.
Well, “sat prettily” was an understatement - right now you felt so full you could’ve just died.
“Heh, better not die on me just yet because I feel like m’gonna kill fucking everyone..” Sukuna’s large pecs rumble with laughter- shit, had you said that out loud? “Everything.” Long tongue coming up to lick a hot trail up the big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Whispering raggedly, “God- fuck! How’d you want it? Like I’m me or like hah- this?”
It’s all you can do to crane your head up deliriously, batting your teary lashes in a way that makes Sukuna twitch so wildly.
His veins thump! thump! thumping into your gummy walls, fat heads nudging right at your bruised cervix - your lungs it felt like. Hips grinding up into yours when he’s shoving himself impossibly deeper, “Answer me.”
“Fuck!” you’re gasping, stupidly. Glassy gaze flitting down to the two angry cocks bullied inside your poor pussy. And still going. “N-no, your true ngh- form- fuck-”
“Oh yeah?”
Your words are coming out a garbled mess, making such a sly, dangerous leer spread across Sukuna’s lips. Fucking up faster. Sloppier.
Oh, the feeling had him lightheaded. Had him thankful he lost control of his powers to maintain that pathetic human image of his. Had him ramming past those rings of muscle again. And again. And again and again- oh he was fucked.
“Fuuuck, feel like m’burning. M’so lucky.” Sukuna slurs out, a free hand of his busying itself toying with your throbbing clit. Pulling, rolling in a way he knows will have you whining so prettily. “Sooo fuckin’ lucky I didn’t kill that fuckin’ trash curse.” Glossing his wrists with your sweet sweet juices, lips kissing at your heated ears. “Because now I get to see how much of a slut my girl is f’me, hm?”
The only answer he’s getting is a wet string of profanities that even Ryomen Sukuna himself is proud of.
Because suddenly Sukuna’s crashing his achy tips against your g-spot, throwing his head back at how fucking sinful it felt to be rubbing up against himself.
“Shit- yer only getting tighter.” he spits, strained. Sculpted thighs rippling underneath you where he was fucking up into you in jagged, methodical half-thrusts to mold your sweet cunt to him. “Ngh- fuuuck gonna be the death of me, pretty girl.”
“Please-” you’re clawing at the sheets, the headboard, Sukuna’s shoulders - anything and everything to keep your sanity. Begging for- what? Mercy? More? “Please please- m’so close. Kuna ngh-”
He cranes his head down to kiss at your slack lips, breaths feverish. “Damn. Open that m-mouth now, brat. Jus’ a bit- jus’ a bit more.”
Your mouth is sagging open, tongue lolling out before you know it - positioned perfectly for the bigger man to purse his lips and spit. Once. Twice.
And Sukuna knew he had perfect aim, he knew he could’ve made this easy for you - but, no, the steady stream of saliva is splattering against the side of your mouth. A large thumb of his coming up to swipe the mess across your wobbly lower lips.
“My girl deserves to be treated like the slut she is, right?”
His true form has those inhumanly large fingers moving so unfairly fast on your clit, rolling and pinching in an obscene little blur.
“Oh- oh my god-” you sob, ass stinging where his heavy balls were smacking you - sure to leave a few embarrassing marks. And fuck he’s not even all the way in yet. “Y-you’re so deep- so much. Close Hngh-”
Sukuna’s grinning, two hands helping just drag you down his sloppy length, until your sopping folds were kissing at his toned pelvis. Another dancing up to knead and grope your sloppy hole open wider, “Say it. Say who you’re acting like such a slut for.”
“It’s- fuck!”
“Say it properly, my cockdrunk girl. Say it if you wanna cum.”
“You!” your words fail you pathetically, and the only think you’re moaning next is Sukuna’s name - like a prayer. “S’you Kuna oh-”
And then you’re cumming - white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and Sukuna’s name in your mouth. Arching into his body. His tongue slipping past your puffy lips to muffle his own moans because God this was the hardest he’d cum in his life and he wasn’t about to drown out any of your pretty moans with it.
“Oh-” Sukuna shudders, fucking you over and over through your high. Two hands carrying your weight and- shit, when did he stand up? “Yeahh, milk me like that, just it mm knew you were so good f’me-”
You’re realizing with a jolt that he’d gotten up, using gravity to his advantage and sliding you up and down his swollen cocks like some glorified sextoy. So easily. So sinfully while he filled your poor overfilled over and over.
Thick, hot globs of cum that drool down your messy cunt, so fucking much from both his throbbing cocks. Like he couldn’t - wouldn’t stop.
Enough to form a pool at Sukuna’s feet. One he doesn’t even give a second glance before muttering, “Ya better hope you’re on the pill because the curse and I are far from over, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - STRONGEST
You thought it would bate by his second orgasm.
And when it didn’t, well, surely the third time was the charm…
Or, well on the slight chance that that didn’t work - the fourth would be the last, right? Right?
“Sweetheart…” Gojo mutters, teary, red-rimmed eyes peering so unfairly into your hazy ones. Folding your trembling, limp legs back into such a tight mating press. “Jus’ one more time. Please? I promise this fifth time’s gonna be the last.”
Wrong. And here you were, folded up in half underneath the great Gojo Satoru - the strongest, the same sorcerer that can take down a special grade and let himself be hit by its cursed technique (“out of curiosity!”) in the same breath.
“A-another?” you mutter, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended. Thighs tightening involuntarily where they were thrown over Gojo’s broad shoulders. “Toru, are you sure-”
Your dear boyfriend’s only giving you a slow, lazy nod. A dopey smile spreading over his face when he spots the trail of gooey white dribbling down your poor, overfilled pussy, gushing out of you with each languid thrust. Oh- shit, when had he started moving again? You bet even he didn’t know that answer.
And before you can react, Gojo’s taking the time to pool the sinful mess on two of his fingers - promptly bullying them back into your already stuffed cunt.
Fuck, you’re not making it out of this alive.
“Shit, taking me so e-easily, huh?” Gojo’s raw, pink lips fall open when your sloppy hole stretches just enough to accommodate his long fingers. “Y-yeah tha’s it. Take it like m’good girl.” Tears of sensitivity pricking behind his eyes when you clench around him so fucking tight, your plushy walls just milking his ravaged cock. “F-fuck s’too sensitive. Too much!”
And despite his own little whines at the back of his throat, Gojo makes no move to stop.
Did he say he’d stop? Ah, his fried brain couldn’t remember anymore.
None at all, instead, he’s raising his glossy finger pads right up to his mouth. Blue eyes falling shut when he presses them inside momentarily, sucking, savoring the taste of you and him and you-
“You’re t-too much, Toru.” you squeal in embarrassment.
And that’s all it takes the strongest to let out a barely-lucid hum of agreement - pulling out his fingers with a lewd pop!
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he leans down to hum, breath hot against your face. “But what can I- ngh- do-” Each word was punctuated by a harsh, sloppy smack of his hips against your own. Not even bothering pulling all the way out - Gojo doesn’t have to, because he’s nudging all your sweet spots so expertly anyway. Grunting out over those absolutely lewd squelches, “I just want- need you so bad. S’like m’burning from the inside hah- o-out if I don’t ngh fuck this pretty pussy.” He’s babbling deliriously, bent so far down now that your forehead is pressed up against his, thighs burning at the stretch. “-need it so bad. Need it - my one weakness, sweetheart. S’gonna kill me- gonna be the death of me oh-”
“Please!” you think you could almost feel Gojo’s cum sloshing around your walls right now. Fucking you into the mattress so hard - so deep - that you wonder by what miracle the neither of you haven’t broken anything yet.
It wasn’t a miracle - it was his reverse cursed technique, which the both of you discover only much, much later.
But for now you’re only clinging desperately to Gojo’s muscled shoulders, bones popping in protest. Fucked-out whimpers spiling from his pretty mouth each time he was slamming his poor, overused cock inside you. Teary eyes screwing shut because shit it hurt so good. Too good.
“F-Fuck!” you’re gasping when he dances his fingers straight down to draw hasty, feverish little circles on your poor clit. Fingers clawing at his persistent wrist, “Oh my god-”
Gojo hums into your mouth, “J-just ‘Toru’ is fine.”
You let his cocky little comment slide - if only because your boyfriend was smashing into your g-spot repeatedly now. Over and over.
Voice about an octave higher when he’s groaning, “Y-yeah, that good? Ngh- ah!” His hips were stuttering forwards - messy, so so needy like he was drunk on those cute lil’ whines tearing from you with each drag of his cock. “Yeah fuck fuck f-fuck yer killin’ me - pussy too good, feels like m’gonna die.”
God, he really did feel like he could die. Fuck.
“M-me too ngh, Toru.” you wrench your eyes open when something so wet splashes onto your cheeks. Boring into Gojo’s glassy, pussydrunk eyes. Crying now. “M’so close-”
“O-oh yeah?”
And then he’s speeding up - if that was even possible. Flushed skin smacking against yours harder. Just a bit more calculated. Like he couldn’t stop. Uncontrollable.
Enough for Gojo to blink away the slight haze in his eyes and actually look at you. Look at the way your lips wobble with each glide of his fat tip against your sensitive spots, the way you milk him harder when he’s smearing his mess of cum all over your clit. At those delirious little heart-eyes you give him when he only lets his jaw sag open, such fucking embarrassing whimpers of your name being drawn all the way from his overworked cock.
“Cum f’me, sweetheart.” he manages to grit out. “Cum f’me cum f’me, please. Please.”
And how could you not when the strongest asks you so prettily?
You don’t know who cums first - just that your own orgasm is a wave of tingles that shoot all the way from your toes right into your stupidly fucked-out brain. Again and again and Gojo-
Oh, Gojo can’t do anything but bury his head into the crook of your neck. Sharp teeth biting down hard at the point of your pulse as he cums over and over and over. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed right into your silky cunt. A sinful little white that drools out of your sloppy slit - too much.
“Sweetheart…” Oh, you knew that tone - too well. “Y’know how I h-have the ah- six eyes n’ this was only our fifth round and six is really a nice num-”
“M’gonna kill you, Toru.”
“S’that dirty talk for our sixth round?”
A/N. TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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more to love - toji fushiguro
summary: toji loves a curvy woman and isn’t shy about it
warning: nsfw, curses, praise kink, dom!toji, chubby reader, body worship, afab reader, mention of female anatomy, mention of cunnilingus, backshots, petnames, spanking, booty rubs, fluff, smut, overstimulation
toji has always been a man who knows exactly what he likes, and when it comes to women, curves are at the top of his list. he’s noticed the weight you’ve put on recently and how your clothes hug you more than usual. when you’re near him, the way your curves catch his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed. every time you walk by, he can’t help but let his eyes roam over you, savoring the shape of your body, the way your hips sway and how your curves fit perfectly in the clothes you wear
toji can't help but bring you into his lap when you walk past him in your– now form-fitted– pajama pants. “you’ve been filling out, huh?" he asks as he gropes your thighs. everywhere i look, you’re getting even softer. these pants fit you perfectly now”.
toji's touch becomes more insistent. he’ll slide his hands under your shirt to feel your stomach pudge, loving how soft and squishy it is. “so pretty, mama. can’t get enough of you”
toji isn’t shy about making you aware of his appreciation for the changes in your body. the softness, the fullness—it’s all his to claim. the way toji touches you—unapologetically, with no room for shame— makes you feel so sexy. while you straddle his lap, his touch is possessive as he feels your hips, your stomach and your back rolls. “fucking perfect” he growls as he takes greedy handfuls of your ass
toji likes to absentmindedly rub comforting circles on your butt as you lay with him. you’ll be watching tv, laying on his chest and slowly falling asleep as he softly rubs you there. it's more of a comfort thing for him.
toji likes to take a nap on your stomach since he claims it’s the perfect pillow. he also is a sucker for your thighs and often rests his head against one as he cuddles your leg. when you run your fingers through his hair, he’s done for– falling asleep almost instantly every time
toji in the bedroom is another beast, and there’s no question where his hands will wander. he’ll make sure that ass is front and center, exploring, groping, teasing, and worshipping. toji will pull you into him, sliding his hands over her curves, especially when you’re bent over for him. he likes the control he has when his hands are on your hips, guiding you, making you move to his rhythm. he'll give you a few sharp smacks, especially if you’ve been teasing him with your movements.
toji’s hands splay over your skin as you arch for him. he moves to caress the curve of your lower back before sliding lower, over the swell of your hips. he leans down, his chest brushing against your back as his lips press a searing kiss to your shoulder. “you feel so fucking good” he moans low and husky. his lips trail down your spine, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the way. his teeth graze your skin, playful and teasing while his hand slides over your stomach to hold you steady. “stay just like that” he commands softly. the way he holds you, the way he presses into you—it’s all-consuming. he knows exactly how to take his time, alternating between rough and tender, making you dizzy.
toji's backshots are mean. the grip on your waist is harsh as he lets out a low groan. his eyes lock on where you two meet and he’s almost hypnotized by the way your skin ripples under his movements. he feels too good that you can’t help but squirm in his grasp. “uh uh, c’mere” he mutters, his hands pressing down on your back to force a deeper arch that has you gasping. “where you goin’, huh?” he asks as he gives you a few spanks. the angle makes you gasp as he hits that perfect spot over and over. you reach back, weakly trying to push against his abs as you cry from pleasure, but it’s no use. “c’mon, baby. lemme have it”.
toji will tease you even more now since there’s more skin to work with. his lips run along your skin, leaving gentle kisses as his thumb brushing over the edge of your waistband. his lips trail higher, leaving warm, lingering kisses, and your breath catches when you feel his teeth graze against the soft flesh of your thigh. it’s not a gentle nip; toji’s bite is firm, enough to leave a mark, but you’re not complaining. he leans in again, his lips now pressing soft, teasing kisses on the bruised area, as if marking his territory. you can’t help but moan softly, your hands threading through his hair, urging him to continue. the way he’s focused on every inch of your skin, makes your pulse race. toji knows exactly how to drive you crazy, how to make you want him more with each deliberate touch.
toji's dream is to be smothered between your thighs as he eats you out. he loves overstimulating you. he does it on purpose so he can feel you squeezing your trembling legs around his head as he works you through your release. he’ll hold your legs open, kneading at the flesh as he pleasures you. and he won’t stop until you tap out
toji whispers “you’re everything i’ve ever wanted” when he's come down from an intense a few rounds. his hands are on you, lips pressed to your skin, and his voice low and filled with raw emotion. his praises make you feel completely cherished. toji isn’t just touching you—he’s worshipping you, wanting you to know just how much he loves every inch of you. and he makes sure to remind you constantly
—
a/n: thank you for reading!! i wrote another version similar to this, but with chubby toji!! you can read it here!
#levisjinchuriki#my works#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#toji zenin#jjk men#toji fushiguro#toji x you#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk toji#fushiguro toji#fushiguro x reader#toji#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#chubby reader#toji x y/n#jjk x black reader
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In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)
Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader
Genre: headcanons, smut
Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down
A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)
hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group
hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.
hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.
hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic
hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.
hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.
hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.
hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.
hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.
hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.
hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.
hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.
hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.
hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.
hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.
hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.
hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.
Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~
#ᡣ𐭩 saymio#squid game smut#squid game fanfic#squid game 2#squid game x y/n#squid game#squid game x you#squid game x reader#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere x you#yandere#in ho x reader#hwang inho#inho x reader#player 001#the front man#the front man x reader#fanfic#smut#young il#young il x reader#oh young il#hwang in ho#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#prob ooc#headcanon
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the "it" couple
masterlist
requests are open
summary: you and Rafe being the hottest couple on the island
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: established relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of nude pictures, Rafe is reader's first everything, you're both lovesick
a/n: my obsession with soft and painfully in love Rafe is not curable at this point. but like could you imagine having him all to yourself?? ughhh the things i'd let him do to me😩
Everyone knew that there are couples that, at first glance, give you the impression that they just have really good sex. Like they are so hot and perfectly compliment each other, with a certain vibe oozing out of them, especially when they are together.
You and Rafe were that couple.
Before you started dating, no one ever considered that two polar opposites like you might even coexist. You were a kook, but still completely different from Rafe and his little gang. You were pretty, but more on the quiet side, never showing off or bothering anybody.
Rafe, on the other hand, was mean and sarcastic to everyone and everything. It was a good thing that you put him in his place the first time he talked to you, making it clear that you are not having his shit. And also making Rafe instantly interested and following you like a puppy.
You were annoyingly teasing and flirting with each other, and everyone tried not to get involved in whatever was going on. It was your first experience with a guy, because before that, nobody was really making their shots, or, at least, you never paid enough attention to notice it, choosing to focus on yourself. But with Rafe, it felt fun and so damn easy.
Your first kiss set everything in its place because you finally gave in to your hidden emotions. It made sense why you were always arguing and pestering each other—you simply craved attention from one another and it was the easiest way to get it.
Surprisingly, Rafe’s rough edges softened, especially around you, and he was so affectionate and craved you around him 24/7. Though, knowing that you’ve never been in relationships before, he never pushed you to do anything, just following your pace.
But after your first time happened in the third month of dating, after the ice melted and your insecurities fully disappeared, Rafe almost got another version of his girlfriend.
If he thought that you couldn’t be better, then he was wrong.
He never understood his friends who said that they had to almost beg their girlfriends to have sex, mostly because Rafe had never been in actual relationships before. But it made even less sense for him because you, seemingly, had the same energy and high sex drive as him.
The first few times may have been slightly awkward with you still learning and trying to understand your own body, but once you got confident, you became unstoppable.
Whether it was early morning, the middle of the day, or way past your bedtime, you were ready to have sex right away, straddling Rafe's legs or luring him into a kiss while your hands slipped under his pants.
It was crazy how much you both wanted each other. It was a perfect fucking match to have someone with exactly the same needs. You probably have been bent over every single flat surface in the house and not a single room was safe from the two of you. He wanted you all to himself and he could go hours just worshiping your body and fucking you into bliss.
You were almost glued together, never coming to an event alone. Rafe was so obsessed with the way you looked, with your smell, and with the feeling of your skin on his, so he always had to touch you one way or another. His friends teased him that he was absolutely pussy whipped for you and he had never denied it. They also started calling you Mrs. Cameron because you acted like a married couple and neither of you were against that nickname.
To say more, the idea of that made Rafe so feral for you, so he didn’t let you get out of bed the following day. Not that you complained, though.
Rafe loved sneaking out with you. Whenever you two had to visit a gala with your families, he always snatched you from the main room to drag you to the bathroom or another hidden place to have a quickie or to burry his head under your dress because you were too hot to resist. Yeah, maybe other people noticed it, giving you their usual politely awkward smiles, but neither of you care.
On his birthday, you gave him the best fucking gift, which was a stack of your naked polaroid pictures. You were really nervous to do that, thinking that Rafe might react differently, but he reminded you once again why he was your perfect match. After looking through the photos several times, he literally attacked you, throwing you back on the bed and giving you the best orgasms of your life.
Since that day, one of the less explicit pictures of your ass has been placed in his wallet.
You were officially the “it” couple on the island, with everyone either admiring or being jealous of that spark, which never seemed to diminish. Everyone saw the way the Rafe Cameron gave you heart eyes, soft smiles and gentle kisses. The way he held you close to himself, protecting you, taking care of you, and treating you like a queen.
Some people told you that it was only the excitement of a new relationship, but after a few years of dating, with a promise ring on your finger, it was still there. You still craved each other's touch; you still craved being together whenever it was possible, always going on dates and trips, attending all of Kook’s events, but mostly spending lazy days in your shared house. Sex was even better than before—more passionate, fun, hot and full of unconditional love.
Despite the gossip on the island, Rafe didn't get “bored” of you. No, over time, he became addicted to you because you felt like home, and there was nothing better than being with you.
He didn't need any other women. And he still couldn't grasp the idea of cheating. If he had you, then why on earth would he do that? Every time he came home, the best person in the world and the best sex of his life were in that exact location, so he never complained about anything.
You were his afrodisiac and whether you were in full glam, in a bikini on the beach or in his old t-shirt with messy hair, he couldn’t just keep his hands to himself and not kiss the air out of you.
He liked how you stayed at home, doing whatever you wanted and treating yourself while he worked. You always greeted him with homemade food, but more importantly, you acted as if you had not seen him in months.
You were waiting on the porch or finishing up in the kitchen, but when you saw him, you ran and jumped into his arms and pulled him into a kiss. It always melted Rafe’s worries and bad mood away, as his shoulders sagged in relief from being in your arms again.
You always ended up in your bedroom, with you on or under him, while your hands were tugging at each other’s clothes. Rafe knew that it would eventually end up with him finally putting a baby in you—something that more and more flooded his mind—but for the foreseeable future, he first had to officially make you his Mrs. Cameron.
And the red box with the big ass diamond ring, which was currently sitting in the drawer, was just waiting for the perfect moment.
#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader
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Single Dad!Simon who vowed to never trust another woman again after his failed past. He was locked up with the key thrown away, permanently off of the market.
At least that’s what he’d told himself for years. Now, he was beginning to have cold feet.
Simon needed a nanny, one that he could trust completely. He didn’t play about his child, and he’d be damned if he got set up with someone of ill intentions.
But, he was desperate.
Price needed him back periodically, even after his retirement, and he agreed. After all, money was tight when he parented on his own with a growing child.
That was when you came in. Soap had been a pal and recommended an old family friend, somebody he knew Simon could trust with his kid. Simon was skeptical, of course, but Soap had never done him wrong. Reluctantly, he agreed.
Simon wanted to have a trial period to see if you were truly built for the task. He wouldn’t let you off easily. His child was his world, and women weren’t exactly in his deck of cards when it came to trust.
You were as sweet as honey upon the first meeting with a smile that could outdo the sun. Your voice was soft as rain, flowing out of you like a summer song. You spoke to him with the upmost respect, and even more so with his child.
Simon knew he could trust Soap in guaranteeing somebody safe. You were the perfect candidate. He just didn’t know it would lead into him feeling emotions he’d buried a long, long time ago.
Attraction. Interest. A crush, dare he say, like he was a stupid high school kid that just saw the prettiest girl in class and fell head over heels.
He had a silly crush on his child’s nanny when he fully intended to keep it short and professional. That was the way he operated. He was like a working machine, and you had undone his mechanics so easily to the point he struggled to function.
Seeing you with his child only caused his attraction to fester deeper. His child became attached to your hip, smiling more than they had ever done, rambling nonsense to him every time he returned home and you left to go to yours.
It was becoming hard to deny it. You opened an old wound of Simon’s, awakening that deep and dreadful loneliness he felt every passing day. Every smile, every laugh, every Mr. Riley even though you were close in age, all of it had him on the edge of his seat.
He wanted more. He was tired of denying himself happiness. The idea of pushing away every woman was still very vivid in his mind, but denying you just seemed criminal the more time passed.
“I never got to thank you for allowing me in to your home, Mr. Riley,” you told him one day, ever so sweet.
“Thought I told you to call me Simon,” he grunted, avoiding your eyes as the two of you stood in the doorway.
“Right. Simon,” you corrected with a radiant smile. “You have quite the kid, I’ll tell you that. I always look forward to coming over. It makes my day seeing the two of you.”
Simon could feel his heart pattering against his ribcage. His hands were sweaty, and he prayed you didn’t notice him swipe them along his jeans.
“Both of us?” he hummed.
“Of course. You’re just as exciting to see, too, Mr. Ri- Simon.”
Simon’s lips quirked up the slightest bit, but his heart was in his ass. For the first time in a long time, a woman was making him shy and nervous, and it didn’t feel as bad as it did before.
“You’re always free to come over for dinner,” he offered.
“That sounds great, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you!” you exclaimed, beaming.
He didn’t understand how you could be so bright yet so oblivious at the same time.
Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “I meant, the two of us.”
You stared at him like he’d grown two heads, and he nearly slammed the door in your face from the sheer anxiety that spiked in him. He couldn’t read your mind or what you were feeling, and Simon wished he had never said anything to begin with.
“That sounds wonderful,” you said instead. Now it was Simon’s turn to stare at you crazy. “I’d love that.”
Simon realized he was staring too long, so he cleared his throat once again, giving you a brief nod and looking away. “Alright. I’ll text you a day and have Soap pick up the little monster for the night.”
When you agreed and left with the smile that made his heart ache, he didn’t waste a second in texting Soap, telling him he’d be on nanny duty for one night that week.
Soap was quick to agree, but not without a little “You’re welcome ;)” text back.
#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost drabble#ghost simon riley#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you
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LIKE THE FIRST TIME
it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.
logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter
it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.
in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.
he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.
—how was your day?
logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.
—did something happen?
you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.
—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.
you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?
logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.
—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.
you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.
logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.
—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.
you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.
your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.
you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.
your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.
his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.
your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.
—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.
you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.
he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.
you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.
your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.
—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.
with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.
—it was one of your favorite tshirts.
—don't care.
and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.
all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?
now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.
he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.
—you're beautiful —. he whispered.
logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.
you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.
—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.
you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.
logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.
you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.
—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.
he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.
—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.
between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.
you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.
—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.
oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?
logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.
—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?
you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.
—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.
—felt too good to even think about it.
you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.
—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.
he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.
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