#makes it even more aggravating to be teased about.
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lesbiradshaw · 1 year ago
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height differences in ships stop being fun when you have to start rewriting history and doing backflips to force it like omg.
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kurooh · 24 days ago
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I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO
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⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.
warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)
xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃
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“hello?”
“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”
“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”
“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.
“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”
“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.
“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”
“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.
“i suppose so.”
“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”
“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”
“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”
“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.
“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”
a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.
you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.
“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—���
“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”
you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”
“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.
“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”
“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.
the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”
you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”
“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”
“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.
you might as well be wearing nothing.
the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.
“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.
“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.
“could i at least turn around?”
“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.
“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”
“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.
“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”
“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.
it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?
“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”
beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”
he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”
the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”
“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”
suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”
you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”
“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”
satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.
“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.
“you’ve got my full attention.”
“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”
a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.
“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”
it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.
truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”
“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.
“lie back for us.”
“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.
satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.
“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”
suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.
“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”
the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.
“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”
satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”
you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.
it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.
“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”
suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”
satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.
“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.
“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.
“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”
satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.
“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.
“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”
“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.
“she’s fucking soaked.”
“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”
satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.
their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.
“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”
the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.
“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”
“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.
“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”
you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”
satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.
“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”
“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”
satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.
“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.
you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.
“cover us in your cum, baby.”
obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.
“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”
suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.
“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”
“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”
you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.
“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.
“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”
you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.
likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.
you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”
slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.
“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”
“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”
“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”
with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.
satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.
“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.
suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.
“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”
“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”
waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.
the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.
you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.
above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”
“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”
as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.
you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.
“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”
“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”
his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.
“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”
as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.
“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.
“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.
everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.
satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.
“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.
you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”
“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”
you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”
“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.
“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”
“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”
you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”
satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .
“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.
“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.
“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.
“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”
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hyunebunx · 1 month ago
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˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33
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“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”
You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.
“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.
Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”
“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”
No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.
Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”
You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.
“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.
“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.
“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”
Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.
“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.
“Liar.”
For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.
“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”
“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”
“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.
“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.
“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.
“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”
Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.
“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”
He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”
Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.
Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.
That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.
Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”
“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”
Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”
“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”
“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.
“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”
Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.
“Baby.”
Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.
“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.
“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”
And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.
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chobunz · 28 days ago
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── stress relief. ( sjy ) 🎧
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๑ Jake hasn’t gotten as much attention from you lately, so I guess he has to bother you in order to receive it..
pair: clingy bf!jake ㅊ busy gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, fluff, very silly and unserious banter, teasing, begging, fingering, oral (f. rec), spit kink (?), marking, unprotected s.x, creampie | words: 4.0k
welp- this was a lot longer than i intended it to be lol, srry not sorry. also why am i always making jake such a needy bf ? LOL, idek.. i just love a man that’s down bad for me what else can i rlly say shdhshsd
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
exam season never stroke you as easy, that’s why you took more time than you had into studying. you spent most of your days sitting infront of your laptop and it’s handy dandy partner— your notebook. on the side of that you were juggling your boyfriend’s needs, alongside your mother’s constant smothering over the phone about how she wants to see you this week. you constantly tell her that you don’t have the time and if you had the time you’d rather go over there than anything. you loved your mother dearly, but you wanted big things for your future, especially when you imagine a family one day with your lover.
“mom, we’ve been over this a million times, i love you and all but i’ve told you. i don’t have the time to go and see you right now..” you hated having to put your studies first before anything, but that was the only way in order to become successful. you couldn’t afford to slack off and just take time for yourself to do whatever you wanted, you had to remain focused.
your mom didn’t seem too happy with that answer, she really wanted to see you and you could hear it in her voice. it broke your heart the way she sounded. “i understand that, but i really miss you staying over sweetheart.. maybe we can plan something this week ?” she truly hoped that you’d say yes but you couldn’t just drop everything and go home for the weekend, unfortunately things were far more complicated than that.
you were beyond stressed out, and along with her constant nagging it only pushed you over the edge, you were well over aggravated. it’s like she only thinks for herself sometimes..
“doesn’t sound like you understand, i don’t have time and i can’t come see you ! you’re being really selfish right now.” you’ve tried reasoning with her but it just never worked, usually you’d give in and comply with her demands but you had to put yourself first this time. “i’m sorry but not today or tomorrow, not even this week, i love you mom.”
“i love you too.. i guess i’ll talk to you later then ?..”
“mhm, bye mom.”
and with that, you quickly hung up. you felt bad with how you raised your voice at her, but sometimes she doesn’t think. you could tell she had gotten upset just by the tone of her voice and that by itself made you feel like shit.
weight on your shoulder: multiplied.
not long after, jake had came home, he’d seen you working your ass off and understood how this upcoming exam was important to you. although, he also got to shake hands with this disasteress stress. for one, he constantly has to force you off your work to go to bed. he hated seeing you risk your own health for the sake of success. jake knew you’d pass with flying colors, he believed in you, he always had. you were few of the top students in your class. of course you had it. while he also studied for exams, he’d rather not risk his mental health for a test he could easily just take again. and he always told you that, but you’re too stubborn to ever listen.
“babe, i’m home !” he shifted to the living area, where you just so happened to be at the time. “new station?” he giggled, joking about how you finally moved from the dining area.
“yeah, i guess..” you yawned while busily typing away at your HP. jake checked the time once hearing you yawn.
“baby, get up. bed time, now.” he clasped his hands together a second before walking towards you and your silly little laptop. you don’t say anything back, only continuing what you were doing, as if he wasn’t even important enough to acknowledge.
“uh.. are my words delayed ? did i stutter? save whatever you’re doing, right now and get your little ass into bed.” he cocked a brow at you, waiting for you to comply, hands taped to his waist.
“jakeee, just a little more.. ‘m almost done ! i promise. it’s just a little bit left !” you plea at him, hands speeding up it’s pace, dancing along the keys moving to the save button after typing another sentence. your face looked drowsy. you looked tired. and you knew it.
“great then just a little bit for you to do tomorrow ! room, now.” his one arm and his other grasp you, taking you under your arms and up on your feet. “bu-”
“go.” he cut you off, nodding his head in the direction of your shared bedroom. you finally caved, maybe you did need rest. and that’s just what you did, but not before talking to the sweetness that lay beside you.
๑ ๑ ๑
“so, how was your day..” you ask the half sleeping boy who’s face was deeply snuggled in between your breasts. he couldn’t sleep unless he was holding you, the warmth of your body against his gave him the much needed comfort he desired.
“mm.. good, i just wish you were more involved in it..” you felt the vibration of his voice through your skin making you giggle, yet, you were upset with how it’s now just dawned on you that you chose studying over the man who’d give you the whole world if he could.
it seems you’ve been acting awfully selfish lately, barely returning any of his calls or responding to his texts hours later. he feels like he’s constantly giving one hundred percent in this relationship while you barely gave half of that. jake knows you love him, you wouldn’t be coming home every night if you didn’t, but he misses that stage where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know how caught up in exams i were, i haven’t been giving you much attention, have i ? ..”
“you holding me is all i need.. i cherish the time i get when you aren’t studying..” he mumbles, hands tracing shapes along the slope of your waist.
“thank you for giving me time and understanding.. i love you baby..” you kissed his head tenderly. receiving a hum in reply you knew he was tired, so you yourself dripped into slumber.
๑ ๑ ๑
your alarm rang forcing you out of bed and before doing so you switched your alarms off. you looked over at your resting partner. he was so peaceful when he slept he looked just like a baby, and you wanted nothing more than to baby him ;(
*okay.. i wanna hurry and finish this.* you pulled the blanket off your arm before dangling your feet off the cushion of the bed.
“what’re you doing ? where are you going ?” he instantly wakes up when he feels the weight of bed lighten, hands capturing the hem of your sweatshirt to forcefully halt your movement.
“i’m just going to finish up my studying,” you remind him from yesterday, cupping his face as you turn around to face him.
“goodmorning, jakey.” you cheesed.
a strong pair of strong arms wraps around your figure, “gummorning, princess.” he half yawns, looking up at you with those precious, endearing eyes of his.
“c’mon, let’s go play in toothpaste.” you tap his arms signaling him to let go.
“are you saying my breath smells bad ?” he chuckled, finally setting you free.
“i mean, if the shoe fits !” you playfully joked, getting up immediately after he unarms you.
“c’mon babyyy.” you try one more attempt to get him out of bed, hearing him act all whiney since he didn’t want to. he’d much rather still be under the sheets and laid up with you, but you were on a mission today.
finally, you two ended up in the bathroom. mornings were always chaotic, so much going on as you took turns brushing your teeth. while he brushed his, you were brushing your hair and doing your skincare routine. you were getting ready to take a shower so you gathered all of your needed things, only waiting to brush your teeth. when you finally got a hold of the sink you got your tooth brush and sat on the counter, kicking your legs. you were sometimes childish, but so what ? nobody wants to age anyway.
“stop being weird, little girl..” you were laughing almost choking with the minty taste of toothpaste in your mouth, you quickly spat it out. “and you pee loud ! it’s like gun fire !”
he chuckles at your comparison, “i know a few things i do loud.” he mumbled before walking over to your figure that sat tall on the sink as you rinsed your toothbrush, caging you in.
once your toothbrush was away your arms immediately swung around his neck, you’d missed holding him all day everyday, which is why you contemplated on cutting your studying short for today.
“you’re so cute..” jake couldn’t help but be all over you, he’s waited far too long just to have you like this again; peppering kisses all over your face and jawline, trailing them all the way down to your collarbone. your body tingles in excitement, wanting nothing but to have your boyfriend’s hands roam your whole body. but you’d soon snap back to reality— the sad, underwhelming reality of what you’re actually supposed to be doing.
“jake.. we can’t.. i have to finish, remember ?” you felt like a broken record at this point but it seems as though it goes in one ear and straight out the other. he hasn’t touched you in so long, he doesn’t even know how he’s survived without it. he has his needs too, and his hand wasn’t going to cut it anymore. he desperately needed you more than anything right now.
“i’ll be quick ! i swear, pleaseeee.” he tries his hardest to plead with you, eyes practically begging you for an ounce of sympathy. “just want you so bad…”
usually you wouldn’t give in so easily, but the way he looked at you made you wanna fold in a heartbeat. was studying really more important than getting some dick ? yeah probably. but how could you say no to that face ? it’s been weeks since you got some and the urges were only getting stronger. you had no willpower left, so you finally surrendered to him.
he now has you in the palm of his hands, exactly how he wanted. he’d constantly be thinking of you, and all those times where he’s had to pleasure himself in order to get some form of satisfaction has now paid off; he could simply act out all of his horny thoughts on you now. and since he’s already got you where he wants, he wasn’t letting you go anywhere like you usually do. jake plays with the hem of your sweatshirt before lifting it up over your head, practically dying to kiss every inch of your body. he doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have someone as pretty and smart as you, but he’d never take it for granted— holding you within his grasp, carrying you back to your shared bedroom and gently placing you down onto the bed.
“my pretty baby.. ” jake couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you for a second, drinking in the sight of you underneath him, it made him wanna tear you to shreds.
though he couldn’t do that just yet, he wanted to take his time with you. show you how much he truly appreciates and loves you. he definitely lied earlier when he said he’d be quick, there’s no way he’d be able to rush this. not when he’s had all this built up sexual tension that’s been eating at him since the last time you two fucked. the neediness of his actions were more than telling of his intentions, you knew he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him— if not more. plus, how could you refuse that puppy dog look he’s given you ?? he made you go crazy just from his facial expressions alone.
his hands slowly traveled up to caress your breasts, the pads of his fingers swiping over it’s hardened bud, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. he loves the way your body reacts to his touch, how you’d arch your back just from the feel of him. your low moans and whimpers were enough to make him go even more feral than he already is, feeling his cock twitch just from the way you’d sound. he craved you more than anything right now. you bit your lip when his mouth wraps around the base of your nipple, his hand working it’s way down to cup your clothed core, getting a feel of how much of a dripping mess you were for him.
“mmh.. so wet for me already babygirl,” he giggles when noticing the dampness of your panties. you seriously couldn’t believe you’ve fucked yourself over his touch just for exams. you often found yourself subconsciously humping your pillow to the thought of him, wishing that his face was buried between your legs instead of it. your body grew so sensitive over time, it was like you forgot how good he made you feel..
“need you so bad baby.. let me relieve all the stress and tension out of you..” his voice was low, full of lust and desire for only you. he kept teasing you with his fingers, enjoying every minute of you writhing and squirming under his body. he’s missed this dearly, and he was going to take full advantage of this. your mind drew itself blank, unable to think of anything but your beautiful boyfriend on top of you. you judd your hips up against his hand, building a steady rhythm to match his, the friction driving you absolutely insane.
“oh..fuck-” you let out a gasp when his thumb “accidentally” brushes over your clit, his hands shift to tug the fabric of your panties down as fast as he possibly could— but that didn’t stop him from continuing his little torturous teasing spree.
his head rested perfectly between your plush thighs, staring down at your pretty, glistening folds, tracing his finger everywhere expect where you needed him most. “mm.. jake, quit teasin’..” you whined out of frustration, which only made him giggle even more, until he finally complies with your demand.
“you’re right, my hardworking girl deserves a reward. doesn’t she ?” he looks up at you with a devious smirk plastered on his lips, all while sinking two digits into your small entrance— making you cry out from the sudden fill he’s added.
“spread your legs wider for me baby.” you didn’t even hesitate upon hearing that command, legs shooting open immediately. keeping your thighs open with your hands so jake could get a better look at your sopping cunt.
“feels good, huh ? you missed having my fingers inside you ?” he continuously thrusts in and out, gradually increasing his speed as you’re on the verge of falling apart. he absolutely loved seeing you like this, it’s what he lives for. he felt so accomplished knowing that only he can make you feel this way; no one else could ever have the same effect on you that he does.
jake knew you were far too weak to speak, your moans echoing the walls of the room was pure music to his ears. with just a curl of his fingers, your walls cinch around them greedily, watching as they’d disappear into your tight hole. your whole body trembles, as you cupped your breasts to knead them gently.
“fuck, you’re so hot. such a pretty little pussy, all for me.” he pants softly, taking in the sight of your eyes squeezing shut, how you were so overwhelmed already. he could bust just from this alone.
his head dips down in between your thighs, latching his mouth to your clit. he’d switch from harshly sucking to lapping his tongue on the swollen bud, eliciting the prettiest sounds out of you. “taste so fucking good baby. could eat you out all damn day..” he praised again, drowning himself in your sweetness.
you don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on his hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not even registering that it could possibly hurt him. but he doesn’t complain, his free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking his tongue rapidly on your clit and drinking up your wetness, you taste like a dream. you mewl slightly above a whisper, forgetting how to use your own voice. his mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before.
“ ‘m gonna come !..” your hand now held onto his hand for support, lacing your fingers to intertwine with his. you grind your hips harder, feeling like you’re about to explode.. your juices squirt onto his fingers and his chin, making a mess all over the sheets beneath you, in utter utopia from the intensity of your orgasm.
“shit..baby” he moaned, licking his lips to savor every taste of you. he lifts his head up, beaming with a rush of excitement to finally have you take his cock. “get up,” it sounded a lot more demanding than he thought, but he couldn’t wait any longer. he was so horny that he wouldn’t even be surprised if he nuts the minute he enters you, (but thankfully he won’t because that would simply defeat the whole purpose of everything).
you did as you were told and quickly got up to land yourself on top of him. it’s obvious what he wanted you to do, he wants you to ride him while he looks up at your pretty face. it’s one of his favorite positions, not only does he get to lay back and let you do all the work but he secretly loves that you’re the one in control.
“mm.. that’s my girl,” he groans once you hover over his length, gently stroking the base of his shaft. his hands slid up to find purchase on your hips.
his embrace felt all the more than loving— it was familiar, warm, and protective. skin on skin, body to body; beautifully unraveling as one. your mouth flung open when you slid yourself inside but no audible noise came out— it was but a silent scream. he was sporting a semi-hard on but once fully submerged and accustomed to you tightening around him, your walls could feel his length slowly swell up inside you, it was one of those indescribable feelings that you cherish forever.
“better start moving baby, this dicks not gonna ride itself.” he playfully demands, slightly bucking his hips up to feel some motion, “or do you want me to do all the work instead, hm ?” that offer was extremely tempting, but it’s not like he wasn’t going to do that later on.
“n-no, wanna ride you jakey… i’ll start moving” you stutter, shakily rutting your hips against him, he fills you up so perfectly as if his cock was designed solely for you. placing both palms on his broad shoulders for anchorage whilst raising your hips to now finally properly ride his fully erect.
“fuck… s-so big— so full..” you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how he stuffs you completely. his low grunts were the most melodic tone to your ears, along with his heavy panting and nails digging into the dips of your hips— he had your head spinning.
jake was enthralled with the fact only he could have you like this, a pretty little whining mess just for him. his cock throbbing in you intensely made you clench around the thickness, mouth falling back open to reveal a long strand of your saliva, this only brought him more joy as he pulled you in for another kiss, moaning nonstop into his mouth. you picked up a steady rhythm while riding him, moving up and down as you thread your fingers in his soft hair, feverishly making out with him. it all felt too good, he felt unreal, it became almost too much for you.
you gnawed at his lower lip when you pulled slightly away, leaving another string of your spit connected together; he drove you madly insane. his attention went soaring elsewhere now, producing wet kisses along your side profile, to your neck, gently sucking and biting on the skin to admit a reaction. a deliberate shriek leaves your mouth, feeling your muscles tighten as you tremble, he left more faint love bites to your collarbone and visible bite marks to your shoulder. he notices your struggle to stay balanced and shifts his arm, firmly on your waist to keep you in place.
“love the way you take this dick like a pro babe, you’re fucking amazing.” he praised you over and over, his words of encouragement helping you build quicker stamina, bouncing on his cock as if you were deprived of it for months (technically speaking you were, but maybe not for that long).
“you know i love you right princess ?” he husks, assuring that this’ll always mean something more than just sex to him, you were far from disposable, his love runs deeper than you could ever imagine.
“y-yes jake, i do. i love you t-too— mmh fuck !” your head plunges backward when he thrusts his cock back into you to match your movements, bringing one of his veiny hands to come rub your ass, sinking you further into him.
you kept a steady pace as you lower your middle finger to play with your clit as you rode him, the extra stimulation to your nub had your head dropping lower in reverse. you were so excruciatingly wet all you could hear were his hard breaths mixed with your soaking arousal slamming into his cock, only thing running through your mind was getting to milk him empty once you both reach your climax. a moan slips the both of your lips in unison as you scrunched your eyes shut from euphoric sense of pleasure.
“no no, look at me baby— keep ‘em open.” he ordered. your eyes flicker open once again, obediently following his rules, giving him the eye contact he so desperately craves.
“love looking at this pretty face every single fucking day,” he groans, still holding your hips securely in his grasp, “all of this is mine, mine, mine.” each time he’d say it another deep stroke would slam into your cervix. a final hit to your sweet spot had you trembling under him, crying out his name while screaming at the top of your lungs— you can tell he was getting close too by his chest heaving and sultry grunts and moans laced with an endless loop of your name being said.
your face contorts from your nearing orgasm imploding you, the o-shape formation of your lips taking over, “g-gonna come jake… can feel it !” a drawn out sigh leaving your breath as you catch it.
“yeah ? gonna make a mess all over this cock ?” he felt you clench around him at his every word, your hand reaches down to your bud caressing it slowly ready to reach your high again.
“go ahead baby, let go for me.” he grants your undying wish with those words, chasing your high as you finally let go, cream leaking down the sides of his cock.
“fuck, so good.. such a good girl for me.” he felt himself closer to the edge, “where do you want my cum this time babe ?” he asks impatiently.
“inside, inside me please !” you practically beg for it, eyes growing heavy, and your breathing becomes irregular. you soon felt your walls being coated with his thick, hot cum, filling you up with every last drop. you instantly collapsed onto his chest, completely drained and worn out by the end. the room remained silent for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, lost in his warm embrace.
“hmm.. what about now ?” jake broke the quite atmosphere with his random question, leaning closer to peck the side of your face, “how does my breath smell now ??” he teased from earlier’s incident.
“oh my god, shut up,” you turned away from him with hot cheeks. “what does it smell like huh ?” he laughed at your embarrassed state.
“go away !” you pushed him off of you to go do your little pee pee check. “smells like your yummy little pussy, donnit baby !” he watched you hop into the bathroom.
“my pee too loud ! can’t hear you !!” you shut the bathroom door with a tiny giggle.
you could still hear jake hysterically laughing in the background.
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2 am smut hits differentt >:33 had to post a cute lil fluffy fic for my jakey pooh cs he’s so cutieful hehehe <3
also, hii lee ik ur reading this loll ilyyy .+(´^ω^`)+ .
@leeechin ♡︎
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writersdrug · 2 months ago
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more barman! simon!!!! (ofc you can ignore if it’s too many suggestions lol)
can we see simon flirting with reader a little? especially after he sees she actually got jealous of tabasco!blondie
I feel like he would TOTALLY be a tease flirt.
He likes to get under your skin - not to aggravate you, but he just can't resist making you pout and blush and snap at him. He loves how you're all "tough business" with customers, but with him - your boss - that tough skin turns soft, warm, and easily flushed.
He'll tell you your shirt is inside-out while you're waiting for drinks, laughing when you crane your neck around to look for the tag with a confused expression. Smirks as you whine and complain about him pestering you, grabbing the drinks when he sets them down and storming off to your table.
He doesn't realize it, but he'll find excuses to keep you longer after work (and notices how you're not opposed to spending more time with him outside of your shift). He'll never admit it, but he loves to have you nearby, even if it's because he's assigning you more tasks off the clock. Something like "Price said tomorrow's crowd is gonna be a tough one. Might need ya to stick 'round n' help roll silverware." And you'd happily help, grabbing a sanitized bucket of utensils and a stack of napkins and planting yourself at the bar, chatting his ear off as he carries his shift out.
Pulls the ol' reliable "you're defensive" flirtation move. And you fall for it every time. How can you get out of this one? If you say you're not defensive, then you're being defensive. If you agree with him, then... well, you agree with him. You both yap back and forth like this until you're pulling your hair out, stomping away and telling Simon to kiss your ass (tell him again, and he'd happily do it).
But, what Simon dishes out, he can NOT take.
You'll tell him that his shoelace is untied, twirling a straw in your fingers. The moment he looks down, you shoot the straw wrapper at his head like a blow dart, scampering off and giggling before he can grab you by the strings of your apron. You casually mention that his pub would benefit from a stripper pole on the bar - whether it's for him or for you, he can't decipher, but now he's coughing to hide his groan and desperately trying to think of something other than you on his bartop. You sometimes call him by his title: "Bartender, can I have two whiskey sours?" "Bartender, customer at table four says there's hardly any vodka in their mule." "Bartender, I need you to reach me more napkins on the shelf upstairs. They're too high."
He'll glare at you, staring down over his folded arms, you staring right back with your hands on your hips. (He secretly loves it) He sighs and marches off to get whatever you need, and you smile triumphantly and plant yourself at the bar, waiting for him to return.
He knocks his knuckles against the side of your head when he returns, making you yelp. "Hey! What the fu-"
"'M gettin' you a stepstool, half-pint."
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alexiroflife · 5 months ago
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"i missed you"
MDNI, so much suggestive everything, a little fluff but in the sukuna kind of way
ryomen sukuna x reader
Synopsis: sukuna will never say i miss you, but he will surely show you how much he does when you come home
to sum it up: just a late night thought
WC: 1,816
Warning(s): smut, literally just porn, sukuna has a dirty mouth, a whisper of overstimulation
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Sukuna would take out a whole city before he openly admits that he misses you, which unfortunately isn't something you would entirely put past him.
You don't expect him to tell you when he wants to see your face, but you do, however, grow rather accustomed to the way he blows up your phone while you're away with family. When you're given a second to check your notifications, text after text after text lines up from your boyfriend, demanding to know where you are and what you're doing every second of the damn day.
And when he's not making inquiries about every little detail of your life from the moment you wake up to when you go to sleep, he's demanding you return home with empty threats that you know will never be carried out.
-> come home before the next sunrise or you will no longer be welcome within the estate.
-> i've changed my mind. come home tonight, or i am moving your stuff out of our room tomorrow morning.
-> are you seeing my texts? i know you can read. uraume taught me about what this device calls read receipts. answer me now. you are returning home, yes?
-> dammit, woman, just bring your ass back here. what more do you want?
You snort at the texts, your chest warming with endearment at his funny way of expressing his longing for you. He will pull every card, every bluff, every trick besides physically saying that he misses you, and you expect nothing less. After all, if he didn’t, he wouldn't be the Ryomen Sukuna you fell in love with. Somehow, this is more entertaining... just more Sukuna.
When you finally do return home, though, you're in for it. You're hardly even rolling your suitcases to the doors before Sukuna is swinging them open with an aggravated face upon seeing you. You grin widely.
"Kuna! I'm back!"
"Get the fuck in here."
He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, abandoning your luggage and calling for Uraume to take care of it later. You giggle to yourself as Ryomen carries you with one arm to his chambers, kicking the door closed behind him and tossing you onto the large king bed that the two of you share.
"Well, don't act too excited," you tease.
"Quiet," he demands, voice menacingly low. Sharp hunger swirls in his crimson eyes as he approaches you, the shadow of his burly figure enveloping your frame as he towers over you at the edge of the bed. Your eyes go wide and your heart suddenly pounds in anticipation.
"Wait," you start, reaching a hand out. "Hold on-"
You yelp, the king of curses dragging you harshly by your ankle to the edge. He leans over you, his nose brushing against yours as his blood-red irises seer into your own. He studies you like a predator analyzing its prey before pouncing, devouring. You gulp, innocent lashes batting up at him as heat consumes your body. You know exactly what’s coming to you.
Just then, in his closeness, you remember how much you've missed him while you were away. His scent enrobes you, his eyes undressing you sinfully before he can even rip your clothes from your body. You rub your thighs together in a poor attempt to ease the sudden ache between your legs, and his gaze grows darker.
"You're never leaving this room ever again without my say so," he seethes, a declaration so firm that you almost believe he is being serious, and perhaps in his mind he is.
Your lips quirk up slightly. "Did you miss me that much?"
"Silence," he growls, hooking his fingers into your shorts and tugging them down harshly. You gasp and he tosses them over his head, caging you beneath his mass. "We're not going anywhere until I feel like I've successfully made up for all the time we’ve lost while you were away."
This is your favorite part of returning home from trips, though you don't go away without Sukuna often unless it's to see your family. You hate being away from the king of curses, even if it's for longer than a day. He's got you trained by his hand, somehow, yearning for his touch as though you'll crumble to pieces without it.
But the second you reunite, he has your thighs pressed up with your knees to your ears, hunched over your quivering bare frame, your stomach and legs already coated with three layers of your own fluid. He works his dick into you like it's the last time he ever will, slamming into the warmth of your sloppy pussy as you clench around him helplessly.
You’re whining, begging for more though you've already been given so much, your pretty eyes a fucked out daze as you stare up at him behind low lids, pretty lips parted and slick with his spit. He missed this. He missed seeing you ruined for him, seeing you lay back and struggle to take his fat cook as he bullies it into you with no remorse, feral for impossibly deeper access. And hell, he’d never say it, but he missed you. Your pretty face, your sounds, the smell of your sweet sweat and juices invading Sukuna's senses that are absolutely mouthwatering.
"You keep tryin' to keep this filthy cunt away from me, huh?" he pants, watching as your body rocks back and forth wildly against the mattress. "Fucking shameful. You know you can never take her from me, so I'm not sure why you continue to try..."
"M-n-not," you gasp, your words hardly audible as they melt into the plethora of pathetic moans that string from your swollen lips.
Sukuna presses himself down against you, bare chest to your tits as he fucks you into pace, his lips turning to your ear. "No?" he grunts, pulling back to blow harshly into you, his thick length ramming against your walls and nudging that sweet spot inside you over and over. You cry, clinging to his back and digging your nails into his tatted skin. "Then why the fuck didn't you come home when your king demanded?"
"Pl-hah-pleaseee, k-kuna- nghhh- was with my-my parents," you babble.
"You were with your parents," he repeats mockingly. "Do you think I care for something so unimportant? I called for you. Not your parents."
His hips thrust harshly with the gruff groan of his voice, and he feels your puffy, greedy walls tighten around him.
"Oh? This pussy loves being punished, doesn't it?" he smirks against you. "You're such a fucking whore for my cock, aren't you?"
"Mmmm!"
Sukuna rips himself back, reaching down to clench his thick fingers around your throat. Your jaw hangs open, eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head while his other hand claws at the plush of your damp thigh. "Answer me properly, brat," he hisses. "Use your fucking mouth."
"Y-Yesss!"
"Yes what?"
"M'a whore for your cock, Kuna! Only for you, all for you," you whimper, tears streaming down your pretty face.
"Fuck, I fucking know you are." He spears his dick into, rough, deep, heavy thrusts as the sound of your arousal squelches around him. He looks down, watching with a twisted grin as you coat him in a creamy white ring. "How the hell could you think to hold out on me like this, peach? She'so fuckin' loud."
"S'all yours," you whimper, and Sukuna squeezes harder at your throat, leaning in to brush his lips over your gaping mouth.
"I know that, I don't need you fuckin' telling me," he growls. "All mine. You're mine. You belong to me. You’re not going anywhere else without me. Don’t you even think about it.”
And you're nodding dumbly, eyes barely open.
"You better look at me, girl," he demands, and you snap your eyes back open to peer into his consuming, lust-filled stare. He smiles deviously. "Yeahhh. Keep looking at me while I fuck you stupid."
"Goddd, it's so good..! So good, feel'so good," you slur. Sukuna hums, eying every detail of your face as you curl your brows and moan beautifully into his mouth.
"Fucking gorgeous slut," he grunts. "You better not fucking leave me again, brat, you better fucking not. You've got a lot of nerve, thinking you can take this pussy away from me. You do it again, and I will break you."
"Y'already breaking me- ah fuck!" you cry, screwing your eyes shut the moment his tip brushes your cervix. His hand around your throat moves to grip your cheeks. He pulls you up to his face, smearing a hot kiss against your squished lips, then grabs your hips harshly, plowing into you impossibly faster. "Kuna! Can't! I can't, m'gonna cum again!"
"Yeah? Good. When you do, you're gonna take mine too while I fuck my cum into you. Maybe then that'll make you fucking remember to come to me when I call for you."
The noises coming from your room are obscene. The bed is rocking dangerously against the floor and the wall as Sukuna practically splits you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he traps you beneath him again, sinking his fangs into any patch of skin he can find as you scream out, scratching angry red lines down his well-toned back.
"Mmm, that's right. Keep screaming' for me. Take it like a good fucking slut."
He's filthy, balls smacking against your ass as he seeks your release, and he can feel you clenching tighter and tighter. He groans, pushing in deeper, pressing into you harder.
"Oh shit, please- m'cumming, m'cumming, please let me cum!" you beg, trembling beneath him.
"Fucking do it. Cum all over this cock, peach."
You curl into him, face falling into a mute moan as your eyes disappear into your skull and you rub up into Sukuna. His hand flies to your arched back, holding you against him as he pumps you full, riding out your high until his hot load shoots into your dripping heat soon after, painting you white.
There's so much of it, too. It seems to never end as it drips from where you're connected and runs down your legs. Sukuna growls out animalistic sounds, biting hard into your neck and burrowing his nose in your shoulder as he continues his pace, slowly, then back to a normal space.
You jerk against him, trying to push away. "Oh fuck! N-no, Sukuna, ple- hah! Please, I can't! Too much!"
"Shut the fuck up," he demands, lifting up to slap a hand over your mouth. Your dizzy eyes stare at him widely as he works his cum back into you with his hefty strokes. He exhales harshly, brows angling. "I told you I wasn't letting you leave. You left me, now I expect you to make up for it." 
Yeah… he sure did miss you alright.
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anantaru · 5 months ago
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ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES ... OR MORE? — SCARAMOUCHE
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your boyfriend scaramouche can be so grumpy sometimes, but you know of a couple ways that will make him show his soft side, wc. 1.3k
・✶ 。 warnings — heavily making out & tit play, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, grumpy scaramouche
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it's not difficult for you to discern whenever your boyfriend scaramouche was grumpy after a long day and you could already hear it from afar, not needing to see him— the familiar sounds of grumbling and frustrated sighs flowing from his lips to your ears even before you entered your shared apartment.
to be clear, you really don't mind your boyfriend being in one of his moods again, it was quite normal to you and in all honesty, there was nothing more inside of you than a burning impulse of wanting to help him as good as you could.
you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what might've been the reason this particular night.
right as you walked into your bedroom, you found him lividly pacing back and forth, his brows furrowed and his lips set in a tight line of frustration, agitated to the point where he didn't even acknowledge your presence, too wrapped up in whatever was bothering him.
"hey, are you okay?" you ask him gently, stepping a bit closer before setting your jacket on the bed, not taking your gaze off him.
"hah, what? oh, yeah, totally fine, totally okay," he mutters back, awkwardly glancing at you before resuming his pacing, giving you a cold shoulder— and ah, he did this often, for scaramouche it was difficult to actually open up but also, the last thing he wanted was to somewhat drag you down with him.
"those people in the akademiya just, they're, ugh, aggravating, you know? they don't under- understand me, they don't listen, they don't leave me alone,"
"they also can't stop staring and muttering their little mouths to death."
you listen patiently, nodding contently as he vented out his frustrations while ever so often attempting to stop himself by biting into his lower lip— and well, scaramouche had a big tendency to get grumpy pretty easily, and it often took him a while to wind down but talking to you helped, even if it takes him a little to actually do it.
not to mention that you knew the secret to calming him down, always, achieving great relaxation in softening the expression on his face.
you take his hand, guiding him to the edge of the bed as he flinches he moment you touched him, "come over there," you motion towards the bed as he nods, pulling him down to sit beside you, "relax, okay? you're home now."
"i can't relax right now," he barks back, furrowing his brows although he can never resist your welcoming, more so warm embrace as you tugged him closer to your chest, "how can people be so stupid there? aren't they supposed to be geniuses or something?"
you couldn't suppress a laugh, chuckling as you tenderly run a hand through his tousled hair, "maybe you're just too smart, ever thought about that?" you add and listen to him as he exhales shakily through his mouth.
but the man grumbles and you could swear you saw a smile, a slight pucker of his lips when you called him smart, seeing it as a small victory in itself before you shift closer, your arms wrapped around his neck.
he reacts to your touch immediately, his body tense against yours as you just hugged him for a while, holding him gently and waiting until you felt him start to relax.
"breathe and— and just feel me, okay?" you utter.
he sighs but you know whenever he sighs just like that, when the tension in his soul and body eases a bit more, "you're too good to me, keeping up with this," he frowns, his voice losing some of it's earlier sharp edge as it attains a pillowy note.
"ah, i know," you tease, "—don't have to tell me that all the time," as you playfully roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, "kidding, i love all sides of you."
"feeling better already?" you ask him, "now that i'm here?" your voice barely above a whisper.
"maybe, only a little though," you're helping and he knows it, he's both in love and scared by how well you already knew him by now.
his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, "there's something that would make me feel better, great even,"
a curious expression dances over your cheekbones, a playful smile tugging at your precious lips, "oh, really now? what are you thinking about?"
and instead of answering you with words, he captures your lips in a kiss that was a cross between a need and a fleeting frustration, an eager want that quickly deepened the kiss between you. you tug at his hair, pushing him into your lips as he kissed you like a man starved of love and lust, his tongue moving over yours in a hunger well beyond desperation.
the intensity multiplied in seconds, in every touch and every swipe of tongue— scaramouche was eager, he made sure to kiss you even harder as his hands roamed freely over your chest, leaving you short of breath.
never in a million years was his touch not possessive, not almost desperate to the point where you immediately needed more— although it was easy to discern that there was an underlying reason as to why scaramouche kissed you that way, it's as if he was afraid you might slip away if he didn't hold you tight enough.
you broke the kiss only long enough to gasp for air, looking into his doughy eyes as your heart knocks and knocks against your chest, his facial expression drowsy and clouded, his lips swollen and glistening, "scara," you whine, your thighs pressing together.
"hmm?" he just hums an answer, not giving you a chance to say more before capturing your lips yet again, another kiss that was even more fervent than the last one he has given you.
he helps you get onto his lap before one hand slipped under your shirt to play with your tits, instantly targeting your erected nipples with a playful pinch and tug.
you shiver and moan his name, your body responding to his touch with a need that barely matched his own.
he shifts the both of you before pressing you into the bed, his body on top of yours and his lips searching for your neck as it elicits a hefty gasp from your throat.
scaramouche laughs with a deep groan as he continues to pinch your nipples and squeeze your pretty tits, his bangs sticking against his forehead and only showing the pace he was going for.
"scara, please— please," you whine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you arch into his touch.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire, "please what, hmm?" he asks teasingly, like he doesn't know what he's doing to you— as if he's not fully aware on how to get you to this point.
his voice was now, consisting of a low growl that sent shivers down your spine before he grabs at his clothed cock to show you what you're doing to him, stroking the obvious bulge in his pants and hissing as he grinds his cock into his palm.
"please don't stop," you whisper and cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you before your voice trembles in need, "i need you, it feels so good,"
ah, what was the reason he was grumpy about again? because archons— scaramouche swears he forgot, he can forget just about anything when he hears you say that you need him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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uzurakis · 7 months ago
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THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!
featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.
n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. PART 2 HERE :0
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GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.
in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”
as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.
once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."
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ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.
lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."
as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.
"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”
with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.
in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.
"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."
"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”
you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.
you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.
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NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.
nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."
without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.
you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."
as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.
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@uzurakis
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kamiversee · 7 months ago
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Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 1/3)
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[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Sure, your boyfriend Choso gets jealous from time to time but that doesn’t mean you have the right to put him on sex-ban. Hence why he’ll show you he actually has no issues with sharing you (with a certain person).
[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, lots of teasing and taunting, language, heavy sexual tension, buildup to a threesome, & two guys who are completely infatuated with you ^.^
[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.7k
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“Oh my god Choso, shut up,” You whined, brows tense and eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who you’ve been arguing with for the past twenty minutes.
Choso scoffs, “Excuse me?” He tests, trying to see if he really heard what you just said to him, “Wanna repeat that f’me?”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, “I said shut up. You just got home and you’re already starting up with this shit again. Choso, I’m not taking you off of sex-ban.”
Dating Choso is… an experience, to say the least. Sure, he’s a wonderful boyfriend and overall the perfect man for you but, that doesn’t mean you two don’t have your arguments or periods of being upset with one another.
Again, he’s amazing and all but there are times like now where you and him really get into it. He’s stressed out and you’re frustrated— both of which don’t make the best combination.
You’re standing by his living room couch watching him tug off his jacket. Choso’s face is ticked off but he won’t stop looking at you. As for you, your eyes are everywhere else except for his.
“Baby, it’s been three weeks. Three,” He emphasizes, “I can go without sex perfectly fine but you barely even touch me now.”
“Well this is what you get for being an overly jealous boyfriend,” You say with a scoff.
Choso cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow, “What was I supposed to do that day, huh? Just sit there and watch some guy openly flirt with you like I’m not standing right next to you?”
“You’re being dramatic,” You tell him bluntly, arms crossing over one another, “I told you numerous times before, that if you kept up the jealous act I’d put you on sex-ban, and now; here we are and you’re complaining about it.”
“It’s not the sex-ban, baby. Did you even hear what I just said?” Choso asks. He then takes a single step closer to where you are, “You don’t touch me, hug me, or even kiss me as much anymore and it’s been three weeks.”
A nonchalant little shrug is given to him, “Maybe if you didn’t scold your girlfriend for someone else’s actions, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now-“
“I already apologized for that so I don’t understand why I’m not receiving any sort of affection from you,” Choso cuts off. As he nears you, his hand goes down to his belt and he starts to unbuckle it, clearly unwinding after his long day of work.
Your eyes just barely glance over to him and down at his hands fumbling with his belt. Then, you scan your boyfriend up and down and mentally curse yourself for being upset with him right now because fuck is he too attractive for his own good.
You swallow thickly and lift your gaze to his face, only to meet his eyes already on yours. For a moment, you maintain eye contact but then, you glance off to the side again, “Because all sorts of affection always lead to something more and I banned you from sex for a reason,” You explain with a sigh.
“Yeah well, how long do I have to go through this hell, huh?” He asks, tone stern and aggravated with you.
“Hell?” You scoff, “Choso you know there are other things to our relationship outside of sex-“
“Clearly you’re not hearin’ me,” He cuts off yet again, shaking his head at you as he tugs his belt off and walks even closer to you.
Unconsciously, you take a step back and Choso kisses his teeth as you do so before he tosses his belt on the couch along with the jacket he recently took off.
With a long sigh, Choso brings a hand up to his face and wipes it, as if that’ll help him focus his thoughts. Then, he voices out your name and you tense up a little, “It’s not about the sex,” He says yet again, slowly turning his head to you, “You don’t touch me anymore. Do you know how depriving that is?”
You shrug again, “It’s not the first time you’ve gone without my touch Choso, get over it-“
“Baby you practically live with me now,” He interrupts, “I wake up in the same bed as you almost every morning and when I try to hug you, you’re pulling away from me.”
“Again, every touch leads to something else,” You repeat, frustrated with your boyfriend and how he’s making such a big deal out of this.
Choso’s eyes narrow and a vein pops out in his forehead, “Do you think I lack that much self-control? If you put me on sex-ban then you put me on sex-ban. I have enough restraint to respect that, princess.”
You release a huff, “Okay, well-“
“Well what?” He cuts off impatiently.
Your face twists up, “Well if you’d let me—,” You blink and notice how close he’s gotten to you, your head angling up just a bit to make eye contact with him as he stands hardly an inch away from you. God, he smells good, “F-Finish…” You gulp, “I-I’m not an idiot Choso, you and I both know that self-control or no, when you’re pent up, you get more needy and I always let you have your way.”
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying to you?” Choso asks, head tipping to the side for a moment before he’s leaning down to you, “No seriously, are you rendering the words coming out of my mouth, love?” He asks almost in a way that makes you feel small.
A scowl washes over your expression as your eyes meet his once more, “Yes I’m rendering the words coming out of your mouth, Choso. Are you comprehending anything I’m saying to you?”
“I am.” He hums.
“Okay then why are we still having this conversation?” You ask in a dull tone, voice a bit softer now that he’s all close to you.
Choso cracks a little smirk but he still sounds annoyed, “Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in five days.”
“Choso-“
“That’s a hundred and twenty hours without a single touch from you,” He explains, eyes boring into yours.
Your brows raise and you snicker, “You can’t be serious-“
“It’s been seven days since I last felt your arms around me,” He continues, his body inching closer to your own.
You don’t move away this time and simply keep your eyes directly on his, “Why are you keeping track?”
“Sixteen days since you last kissed me,” Choso recalls, his voice getting lower.
“Oh come on-“
His hand is suddenly placed on your waist and he tugs your body up against his, “And three weeks since we’ve had sex.”
Your breath hitches a bit as your chest clashes with his and you keep your arms and hands everywhere except on him, pretty much proving all the points he just made.
Were you really trying not to touch Choso for the past three weeks? Yes. Is that because you’re worried about him getting carried away? No, you’re worried about you getting carried away. You know Choso has self-control but, it’s you who lacks it sometimes.
Swallowing hard, “Choso…” You murmur carefully.
“Baby I’m starved,” He nearly groans out, both his arms wrapping around your waist while his face inclines toward your own, “I need something from you-, anything.”
You bite down on your lower lip and stare at your boyfriend’s face. He’s so close to you, so desperate for you— it was cute how needy he was.
Purposefully, you lean closer to him and his eyes sink to your lips immediately as they nearly press into his own. Then, you stop a hair away from him, teasing him-, torturing him, “Not until you fix your jealousy issue,” You whisper to the man.
Oh Choso’s losing his mind right now. The urge he has to just press his lips into your plush ones is simply killing him. The arms around your waist tighten and his eyes are pleading with you.
“Baby please?” Choso begs, voice laced with the faintest whine.
You nearly folded at the sound of his begging. Hell, your eyelids began to lower and you wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted a kiss from you. You know just one won’t hurt but the fact that it’s been three weeks worries you.
He’s not the only one all pent up and starved, nor does he have any idea how horny you’ve been the past few weeks.
There was a day he came home from the gym and you watched him snatch his sweaty shirt off his body. You swore you were drooling for your boyfriend at the time because he’d been working out excessively just for you.
That was the last day you ended up kissing Choso because as soon as he went and showered, you were all over him. It was hard to control yourself when he smelled so good and his hair was all loose and damp with water— soft groans leaving his throat every time you pressed your lips to his jaw.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering eating him up that day. But, you managed to get ahold of yourself at the time and just barely pried your body away from his.
As of right now on the other hand… Your hands are carefully lifting to his arms, gently feeling his muscles through his clothes as your faces remain close to one another.
You wanted to kiss him so badly. It won’t hurt, right?
Slowly, your arms lift up even more and soon wrap around his neck— to which Choso’s breathing picks up and his heart rate increases. The smallest touches from you were already driving him crazy and his hands began to explore your back a little.
“Just one,” You whisper to the man, “One kiss, okay?”
Choso’s nodding eagerly, “Okay.”
The two of you are leaning in, anticipation bubbling in the pits of both of your stomachs as your lips gaze his and he gets the faintest touch of your skin— only to be interrupted by the sudden buzzing of your phone in your pocket.
You pull away and glance down and Choso swears his eye twitches. He was so close, he almost felt your lips again, your pretty soft and heaven-sent lips almost touched his, and yet someone had the nerve to interrupt.
Choso groans and you try to reach in your pocket for your phone but he suddenly smacks your hand away and reaches in your pocket himself.
You frown, “Choso-“
“Who’s callin’ us?” He cuts off. He sounds more pissed off than he was earlier.
The second his eyes lay on the contact written across your screen, he scoffs. The timing couldn’t have been better.
You move to try and see what he’s looking at but Choso shifts his hand on you and pushes your body away.
“Choso what the hell? Who’s calling-“
“You said I’ve been too jealous of a boyfriend, right?” Choso interrupts, his lips curving into a faint smirk before he lifts his gaze to you.
You nod slowly and wearily, “Y-Yeah, but what does that have to do with whoever’s calling m-“
“I’ll answer it for you, baby,” Choso says sweetly before flashing you a smile.
Your brows pinch together and you blink, “Who is it-“
He ignores your question and lifts the phone to his ear, “Hello?”
Someone speaks back to him but you’ve got no idea who.
“Ohhh, you called on accident? Yeah, no, I get that, happens to the best of us,” Choso hums with a shrug.
He seems all too calm and casual about this so you’re mentally trying to figure out who the hell could’ve called you to where your boyfriend is talking so calmly.
You just stand and watch in confusion for a minute as he continues his conversation.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Choso chuckles a bit but there’s a slight vein peeping against his jawline, “Nah man you’re fine. Actually, since I’ve got you on the phone, can I ask you somethin’?”
Your eyes widen and your heart is beating all over the damn place. Slowly, you try to get closer to your boyfriend, “Choso, who-“
He cuts you off by placing a single finger to your lips, quite literally shushing you. You’re taken back by his action and ticked off by his rude gesture.
“You used to fuck my girlfriend, right?” The man questions bluntly. Your entire face gets hot and you’re not sure if that’s because you’re pissed off or because you’re flustered.
Who the hell could he be talking to? Suguru? No, Choso doesn’t get along with him that well… Who else has your number that you’ve-
Gojo.
Your eyes go wide and you move to reach for your phone and snatch it from Choso’s hand but he swiftly and smoothly evades your attempt, mockingly scoffing at you.
“Choso what the hell is wrong with you? Give me my phone-“
Your boyfriend smiles at you. He finds entertainment in how ticked off you are and it only makes you angrier. Especially when he shakes his head no and moves away from you.
Then he has the nerve to laugh, “Yes, I do know the answer to that already. But my question still stands and I’d like to hear it from you since I have you on the phone,” Choso speaks.
You’re still following him around and trying to get your phone from him but he just moves and weaves all of your reaches.
“Yeahh see? There’s the confidence I was lookin’ for,” He says to the male over the phone, “So…” Choso makes eye contact with you and your heart sinks as his words come out, “Wanna do it again?”
The man on the call chokes on air so loudly that even you hear it despite not being near the phone. Then you hear a nervous chuckle, one that’s all too familiar to you.
You fold your arms at your boyfriend, who simply winks at you. “Choso, what are you-“
“Shut up,” He says to you sternly, “You said I’m too jealous of a boyfriend so now I’m trying to change that.”
“By being a fuckin’ asshole?” You spit out to him, both confused and annoyed by everything right now.
“No,” Choso negates, smiling sweetly at you again, “By calling someone over to please my pretty lil’ girlfriend since she won’t let me do it.”
You blink, “What? Choso-“
“Huh? What was that?” He interrupts, his attention back on the phone call, “Yes I was being serious. I-, oh…” His expression dips a little, “T-There’s a word for that kinda thing?”
You wish you could hear the entirety of this conversation because you’re so confused as to where this is going.
“Ohhh, then yeah,” Choso nods his head and looks at you with a smile, “I guess you could call me that—,” Something is said over the phone and he laughs, “What? No, she doesn’t know. Or, she didn’t know but, she’ll find out soon enough right?”
“Find out what soon enough-,” He starts walking away from you and you move to follow him, “Choso!”
You’re ignored as his conversation continues and eventually, Choso walks into his bedroom, shuts the door in your face, and locks it.
You stand there for a while staring at the door in disbelief of your boyfriend. What the hell just happened? What the actual fuck is going on??
You go to knock on the door, “Choso, open the door!” You shout.
The sound of him still chatting it up with Gojo over the phone is heard and you’re feeling all too many emotions at once. From annoyance to anger to confusion and even very faint arousal, you were completely baffled.
Another groan pours from your lips and after beating your hand against the door for maybe five minutes or so, awaiting some kind of response from your boyfriend, you just give up and stomp off.
Annoyed beyond belief, you make your way back into the living room, grab his things, and toss them onto the floor before plopping down on the couch.
You hastily grab the nearby remote and press play on the TV, bringing your thumb to your lip and chewing on your nail a bit as you try to distract yourself from whatever the fuck your lovely boyfriend is talking about with Gojo Satrou.
Somewhere deep down, you think you’re thankful Gojo called when he did because you almost kissed Choso again and you knew you’d let him take things further if he wanted to. If Choso thinks he’s deprived, he’s got another thing coming because you’ve been aching for it.
Doesn’t he know it’s just as difficult for you not to touch him as it is for him not to be touched? Does he not realize how much of a tease he can be? How in the middle of the night, he’d snuggle into your back and his crotch would press into your ass? Waking you up horny and frustrated?
You scoff. Choso doesn’t even realize how whenever he comes home from his job, he looks so stupidly handsome undressing himself— slight grunts and groans leaving those soft lips of his as he does so.
Then, even when you were hugging him, he’d bury his face into the crook of your neck and his every exhale and inhale made your heart skip a beat.
Oh and let’s not forget how simple phone calls and text messages were enough to get you worked up. It’d be so random too how Choso would text you as you’re in class. Something simple like Baby I miss you would have your heart throbbing and your smile unwavering.
There was one weekend where Choso left town to go visit his two younger brothers and he called you late that night. His voice was deep, husked even, and his breathing was a bit unsteady as he told you he was trying to go to sleep but he couldn’t because he started thinking about you…
Thus leading to him with a painful boner. Then, to make matters worse, not only did he end up sending you a video of what you do to him even when you’re not around but, he had the nerve to return home that week looking fucking perfect.
His face had seemed clearer, his skin was as smooth as ever, he smelled heavenly, and of course— of course Choso decided to come home and touch all over your body, claiming to have missed you terribly.
He was such a fucking tease. And he knows it too, Choso knows what he does to you. He sees it in your face all the time— hears it in your voice.
Which is all exactly why he couldn’t bear with you reducing your touches. That’s what caused the argument today as he came home.
Normally, if you were at Choso’s apartment when he got off of work, which you have been more-so in the past few months, you’d rush to him and greet him at his door. Before the sex-ban, you’d help him undress and smother his face in kiss after kiss, telling him how much you missed him, etc.
And of course he appreciated this more than anything. Hence why he’d constantly note that because you do little things like that, he swears to put a ring on your finger if you’d let him.
Even so, ever since you told Choso you weren’t gonna have sex with him for a while, you stopped doing so. Which is all why he’s upset and you’re frustrated. Maybe you should just drop the sex-ban…
Or maybe just touch him more like he wants and learn some self-control. But, it’s not like it’s your fault your boyfriend is so irresistible. How are you supposed to keep your hands off him-
There’s a sudden knock on the front door and you flinch out of your thoughts. You’d been so caught up with them that you hadn’t even realized thirty minutes had gone by and you still didn’t have your phone, nor did Choso come out of his room.
Instead of moving a muscle, you groan, “Cho, someone’s at the door!”
There’s no response for a minute and your groan deepens as you toss your head back against the couch and frown.
“Choso!” You shout, voice projecting throughout his apartment.
“What?!” He shouts back from his bedroom.
You turn your head toward the direction of his hallway, “There’s someone at the door!”
Neither of you has moved an inch and both of you are just shouting across his home, “You can’t answer it?” He asks.
“You’re closer!” You argue.
Choso chuckles and then his voice gets a bit louder as he cracks his door open to yell, “It’s for you anyway!”
“I-,” You blink and then let off a scoff as you spring up from the couch, “Tch, it’s for you anyway…” You say under your breath, mocking your boyfriend in an annoyed tone.
Everything he was doing was pissing you off and you had half a mind to head back to your apartment. Every step you took was heavy and you wanted Choso to hear how agitated you were.
“Can’t even answer the fuckin’ door…” You grumble to yourself as your hand reaches for the knob, unlocks the door, and goes to open it, “…Getting on my goddamn-,” You swing the door open and your eyes immediately widen, “…N-Nerves,” You whisper out to finish your statement.
In front of you stands Gojo Satoru. All six foot three of him, bright fluffy white hair, black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, angelically handsome face, and stupid rose-tinted lips pulled into a smug grin standing right in front of you.
You had to blink once, maybe twice-, perhaps three or four times to figure out if you were seeing things before you scoff, “Satoru?”
Cocking his head to the side, “Trouble in paradise?” Gojo comments in response, voice just as playful as you remember it.
“W-What the fuck are you doing here?” You breathe out, brows tensing and confusion taking over.
Gojo’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug, “I was invited, duh.”
You stare. Then, slowly and carefully, you start nodding as you move to shut the door on him. Maybe you were dreaming?
A hand is pressed to the edge of the door, an arm nearing your head as this hand comes from behind you, and the door is pulled open. You instantly jump as your boyfriend seemed to have simply appeared right behind you and you swear your heart was pounding out of your chest.
Lips near your ear and Choso’s voice is smooth as he speaks to you, “C’mon baby, don’t be rude to our guest,” He murmurs to you, deep voice caressing your eardrums and making you lose all your thoughts for a moment.
You quickly snap out of it and whirl your head around to look at the dark-haired man, “Choso, what the hell is going on-“
“Oh c’monnn,” Gojo suddenly speaks, “You heard your boyfriend,” He chuckles and you turn to him, eyes going wide as he leans down to you, “Don’t be rude to your guest,” Gojo murmurs.
He was so close that you could smell the faint mint coming from his mouth. His proximity worried you and you stepped back, only to run into Choso and your entire backside to bump into him. Your boyfriend places a hand on your waist and tugs you back a bit to give space for Gojo to walk in.
Never in your life have you been more confused than you are as you watch Gojo Satoru enter your boyfriend Choso’s apartment.
Then, Choso leans over just a little so that he can shut the door but he doesn’t move from behind you. Your eyes are all over Gojo’s face, asking him a million questions with your gaze alone.
Gojo starts snickering, “Sweets, if you have a question, just ask-“
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You blurt out, tone heated before you proceed to give him no time to respond. You’re then turning to Choso, “What the hell is going on?”
Your boyfriend stares at you innocently, “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, you can figure it out,” Gojo chastises.
You swear you’re about two seconds away from popping a blood vessel. An arm of yours moves to shove Choso away from you and you scoff, “First off, fuck both of you. Start explaining yourselves, now.” You huff out sternly.
Choso flashes a sheepish grin, “I already explained everything to you, why are you confused-“
“You were being serious?!” You shout, “You seriously called Satoru over to fuck me?! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You said I was too jealous of a boyfriend so I invited him to prove to you that I’m not,” Choso tells you, the look on his face completely serious.
You couldn’t believe him right now. Not only were you feeling embarrassed having Gojo stand here and listen to you and Choso bicker like an old married couple but you were also fuming with your boyfriend.
“W-What?!” You huff out.
Choso gives you this blank stare he knows pisses you off, “I don’t understand why you’re confused.”
“You don’t understand why I’m-,” You cut yourself off with a sigh and move to pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Choso Kamo, this is the kinda thing you talk about with your girlfriend beforehand.”
“Are we not talking about it now?” He argues, moving to fold his arms across his chest and tilt his head.
You glare at him for a moment before glancing back to Gojo. Then, you chuckle in an annoyed manner, “We shouldn’t be talking about this in front of… him.”
“Him?” Gojo pouts, “Hey, I have a name y’know-“
“Satoru shut the hell up. You will be dealt with, just give me a moment,” You cut off warningly. Turning back to look at Choso, “As for you, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into you but we’re not doing this.”
Choso raises a brow, “Not doing what baby?”
“I’m not about to…” Your face twists up in disapproval, “…To cheat on you just so you can prove some stupid point-“
“Why not?” Your boyfriend asks nonchalantly.
“What do you mean why not? Choso what even possessed you to invite Satoru over?”
“I literally told you why already,” He says bluntly, “I wanna prove I’m not the jealous dickhead you keep making me out to be.”
Your brows raise, “And you wanna prove that by making me have sex with another man in front of you?”
“First off, I’m not gonna make you do anything,” Choso clarifies, “Secondly, yes, I do want you to have sex with another guy just to prove a point.”
“You’re crazy. I mean, Cho, you can’t be serious about this-,” You cut yourself off as you just barely glance down— spotting something that makes you eat your words. “Oh… Oh wow. You-, you’re…” You stammer as your lashes bat in disbelief.
Choso scoffs, “Yeahh… Still don’t believe me?”
“Why’re you…” Your brows furrow as you stare at the bulge in your boyfriend’s sweats, “D-Did just the thought of me and Satoru having sex in front of you get you like that?” You ask softly as you point.
Gojo suddenly pops his head over your shoulder and you flinch as he speaks, “Damnnnn, you seriously are a cuck,” He chuckles out.
Then his hands slither onto your waist and your entire body tenses up. Swallowing, you turn your head to Gojo and glare at him, “Don’t touch me.”
Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks, peeling his hands off your body but keeping his face close, “He wants me to.”
“Well, I don’t. I haven’t agreed to any of this yet-“
“Yet?” Both of the men point out in sync.
You swallow, “I-I mean, I… I wish you two would’ve given me some time to… t-to y’know, wrap my head around this,” You stammer out.
Having your stupidly attractive boyfriend and the annoyingly handsome Gojo Satoru in the same room, both taunting and teasing you was unbearably nerve-wracking.
Slowly, you look over to your boyfriend, “You really want me to-“
“Yes baby,” Choso cuts off.
“What’s even in this for you… aside from,” Your eyes narrow down at his boner, “A-Aside from getting off to this twisted fantasy of yours?”
He snickers, “Uh, I’ll be off of sex-ban after this.”
Your brows pinch together and you fold your arms, “Says who?”
“Baby, the point of the sex-ban was to teach me a lesson about bein’ jealous,” Choso explains, stepping closer to you. Your body was steadily heating up since Gojo was right behind you and Choso was nearing you, “Consider this my lesson learned.”
You scoff, “…Even if I did agree to this…” Slowly, you turn back to Gojo and his face is far closer than you anticipated it to be, his lips nearly on yours as your head turned, “A-Are you seriously okay with this, Cho?”
Gojo’s hands are placed onto your waist yet again but this time, you don’t push him off or tell him to move. You stare into those pretty blue eyes of his and watch as he smiles.
“He’s more okay with this than you think,” Gojo murmurs to you, tilting his head in a way that makes it seem like he was readying himself to kiss you.
You stare at Gojo for a second longer than you mean to before turning to look at your boyfriend once more and god damn his pupils are dilated and you swear his cock has doubled in size beneath his clothes.
Oh he was extremely serious about this.
Choso chuckles, “I can’t exactly fake my dick bein’ hard, can I? What more proof about this do you need to see I’m serious?”
“S-So… if I sleep with Gojo… you want the sex-ban to be over?” You ask for clarification as you glance back and forth between Choso’s left and right eyes.
“Mhm,” He nods at you, “And my point will be proved.”
“Right…” You look at Gojo again and his lips are a hair’s length away from yours at this point, “A-And you… you’re okay with this?”
“What kinda’ question is that?” The white-haired man laughs, “In what universe would I pass up the opportunity to fuck you again?”
You frown a little but, you’re no longer shying away from this, “Satoru… T-This is so wrong-“
“Is it any more wrong than the things I’ve had you do before?” He whispers lowly to you, low enough for Choso to miss what he uttered.
You swallow thickly at his words, “W-Well… yes, yes it is. I’m cheating on-“
“Is it really cheating if he wants you to do it?” Gojo argues.
You pout, “Yes-“
“No, no it’s not,” He interrupts while flashing a comforting smile at you.
“Satoru-“
“Can you two stop arguing and just make out already,” Choso groans, “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to the good part…”
Gojo chuckles and lifts a careful hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pulls you close, “Well, sweetheart? Your boyfriend’s gettin’ needy.”
You shake your head slowly and your gaze falls to Gojo’s lips, “…This is so wrong.”
“Yeah,” Gojo murmurs back before pecking your lips, you sigh immediately and Gojo whispers against you, “But he likes it.”
There’s one last lingering look shared between you and Gojo before he gently presses his lips to yours again, feeling as you sigh against him and just barely ease into this. After all, it was different and weird to kiss someone who wasn’t your boyfriend after a wonderful ten months of dating him.
There are a lot of things you could’ve predicted in your future with Choso but this damn sure wasn’t a part of it. No, making out with Gojo Satoru as Choso just watches the two of you was not something you could’ve ever planned for.
Gojo’s taking things slow, melting into your mouth and steadily parting your lips to push his tongue inside as you hum against him. Choso was losing his mind. Yeah, from the second he saw the way Gojo looked at you, his cock sprung up.
Did he understand why? Not exactly, no. Hell, only about forty-five minutes ago did Choso learn of the word cuck and what it means to be one. He’s watching you and Gojo make out for a little bit before his feet move toward the two of you.
Choso nor Gojo miss the way you moan against Gojo’s lips as Choso presses his own into your neck. Oh. You were about to experience both of these men at the same time? Gojo and Choso. Gojo Satoru and Choso Kamo. To what being must you thank for such a heavenly experience? Your possessive boyfriend and your obsessive ex-lover (if you can even call him that).
Your boyfriend begins to suck on the side of your neck as you hum and squirm in between the two men. Gojo’s got his large hands firmly placed on your waist and you whine into his mouth as Choso moves to kiss under your jaw. With Gojo behind you and Choso now in front of you, you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around the fact that you were being sandwiched between these two men.
Handling either of them one at a time was already too much for you and yet here you were having to deal with both. You feel Gojo’s clothed cock press into your ass and he groans into your mouth before pulling away, both of you making low-lidded eye contact.
“Satoru,” You whisper.
He hums, “Shit-, this is hotter than I thought it’d be.”
Choso’s busy sucking at your neck before he pulls away with a loud pop, his breathing heavy against your skin as you grow hazy in lust. Then, he wipes his mouth off and takes a step back, “Baby…”
You turn your head to him with wide eyes, your lips prettily messy with saliva from Gojo’s tongue and fuck if Choso didn’t find you sexier than ever. Your brows raise innocently and he smirks at you.
“Can you do somethin’ f’me?” Choso hums out. You try moving toward him but Gojo tugs you back and Choso chuckles, “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to touch me yet,” Your boyfriend explains, “I want you to take care of our guest first, can you do that?”
Your eyes widen and you glance behind you and up at Gojo who flashes you a smile, “Yeah, can you take care of me, sweetheart?”
Gulping, you fein cluelessness, “T-Take care of you how…”
“Oh don’t act dumb,” Choso scoffs.
Gojo snickers, “Right, don’t act dumb…” He coos at you.
You pout and glance back over to your boyfriend, “I’m not actin’ dumb… I just want you guys to tell me what you want me to do…”
“Oh?” Choso raises a brow, “So you’re done actin’ like a brat now, huh?”
“I-I wasn’t acting like a brat earlier, you were just being an asshole,” You huff out before rolling your eyes and looking off to the side.
Gojo quirks a brow, “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?” He murmurs to you, causing a chill to slip down your spine.
“But…” Your lashes flutter, “He was being a fucking asshole-”
“You’ve got quite the mouth on ya’...” Gojo interrupts.
Choso suddenly nods, “Yeahh… She does, doesn’t she?” You swallow hard as your boyfriend voices his thoughts, “Why don’t you shut it up?” He suggests.
A hand is placed on your jaw and your face is tugged so that you’re looking at Gojo again, his fingers digging into your cheeks, “I should, shouldn’t I?” He teases, shifting to run his thumb over your lower lip, “She talks way too much anyway.”
“E-Excuse me-“
“She can’t talk when she’s got a mouth full of cock though,” Choso comments.
You swallow down whatever argument you were going to spit out to these two men.
Gojo smirks, “Good point…” He hums before slipping his thumb past your lips, “But, that’s probably what she wants anyway.”
“Think so?” Choso hums, smiling a little.
Gojo nods, “Know so.”
“Okay well, who are we to deny her of such a thing?” Your boyfriend shrugs casually.
“Exactly,” Gojo agrees before placing his attention back on you, “Is that what you want, love? Hm? S’that why you’ve been such a fuckin’ brat? Y’need someone to put you back in your place?”
Yet another pout pulls at your lips, “I wasn’t-“
“Aht, aht, none of that,” Gojo interjects, scoffing at you and finding your expression cute, “It’s yes or no, sweetheart.”
“Y-Yes,” You stammer in response.
He bites down on his lower lip, “Yeah?”
Before you can even nod, your boyfriend’s making your fluster state ten times worse, “Yes what, princess?”
“Yes please…” You whine.
“Be specific,” Choso demands, voice low, “C’mon, tell Satoru what you want.”
“I…” You gulp, “I want you to…”
“Aww don’t be shy, s’just me, sweets,” Gojo coos, his voice gentle.
You were losing your mind right now. Gojo being so careful with you while Choso forces you to voice your needs? Oh you’re not making it through the rest of this interaction, or at least, not in one piece and not mentally okay by the end of it.
“I want you to put me in my place ‘Toru,” You finally manage out.
Gojo hums deeply, “In front of your boyfriend? Seriously?” He teases as he moves the hands on your waist to spin you around. Then he tugs your body up against his, “You really are a lil’ slut, aren’t you?”
Your face twists up a little before you glance back to Choso who gives you a reassuring look— telling you through his eyes that this was okay.
After which, you look at Gojo again and nod, “Yeah.”
He chuckles before bending down a little and then lifting you into the air, your legs wrapped around him as he does so, “Well, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to start by punishing this mouth of yours for bein’ so mean to your boyfriend.”
You frown as you disagree with the claim of you being mean to Choso, “I-“
“Don’t act like that’s not what you’ve been wanting anyway,” Choso adds as he watches Gojo carry you past him. He trails behind the two of you, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at me lately, baby. You’ve been itchin�� to suck me off… Buuut since you put me on sex-ban, I guess that’ll have to do, right?”
You send the man a look and he smiles at you, completely obsessed with teasing you through this whole thing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso hums as you, him, and Gojo enter the living room, “You said you’d take care of our guest first, remember?”
“Yeah, sweets,” Gojo chimes in— God the way they keep doing that is getting on your nerves-, “I can’t wait to put my cock down your throat.”
Okay, by this point, you were beyond pooling in your underwear and it doesn’t get any better as Gojo takes a seat on the couch with you sliding into his lap, his erection poking up against your cunt as you sit comfortably. Then there’s Choso who takes a seat not too far away from the two of you, his cock aching for some kind of attention.
One last time, you glance at your boyfriend, and then at Gojo, and then you sigh.
This was really about to happen-
There’s a soft tap to your ass by Gojo, “Don’t start zonin’ out now,” He hums.
Then Choso’s talking again, “Yeah baby, hurry up ‘nd get on your knees— I wanna see how well you suck another guy off.”
Yeah, this was about to be a long night…
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part two
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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lostalioth · 1 month ago
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𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧
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→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying
→ a/n: kinktober 08
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Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.
However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.
“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.
“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.
“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.
“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.
“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.
Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.
“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.
“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.
Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.
”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.
You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.
He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.
“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.
Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.
“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.
Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.
“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.
You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.
The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.
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→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.
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finalgirllx · 2 months ago
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fuzzy sweaters | jackson!ellie williams just a teensy fluffy thing for week 1 of spooktober. honestly, i'm in a sweet mood so i think i'll be pumping out more blurbs like this over the month.
no warnings | just give me all of the gf!ellie please and thanks
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"ellie, come on," you coax through the bathroom door, your voice soft but persistent. "just show me."
on the other side, you hear her sigh. "are you sure this is my style?" ellie's voice is muffled, but still carries that familiar tone of doubt she only trusts you with. "it's kind of… old man, ish."
"oh yeah, that's perfect," you tease, knocking on the door a few times to signal you're getting antsy. "no, i know it'll look great. plus, it's getting colder, and i'm tired of watching you freeze your ass off while refusing to do anything about it."
"gah, fine," ellie mutters, dismissing your lecture with a part-anxious, part-aggravated huff. you can practically hear her roll her eyes, always with that damn attitude.
ellie tended to reach for clothes that made practical sense—though this wasn’t one of those times. her stubbornness shone through in her refusal to go pick out warmer clothes even as the october chill was creeping into jackson. she insisted she wasn’t 'cold yet' even though you had caught her teeth chattering more than once and how she didn't protest when you moved to hold her shivering hands. still, you didn’t want to push ellie too far, so you picked out something muted and relaxed, hoping it would keep her comfy and echo the warmth you felt toward her. it served as something that could wrap her up when your arms weren’t there to do it.
after a long pause, the bathroom door creaks open, and ellie steps out apprehensively. she's wearing the 'vintage' sweater you nabbed from a bartering exchange; the well-worn knit fits her oversized like a warm embrace--just as you had hoped. the sleeves hang well past her hands, and the brown and olive tones of the sweater are complemented by colorful stripes along the arms. it makes her green eyes stand out even more.
you immediately shift into full-on doting girlfriend mode, squealing and clasping your hands in admiration. ellie stands there awkwardly, never used to the attention. her cheeks flush pink as she fidgets with her fingers beneath the long sleeves.
"you're so dang cute!" you fawn, stepping closer to lightly tug at the sleeve’s fabric. "prettiest girl in the world."
ellie, naturally, protests for a few moments, but the fuzzball sweater and her soft spot for you disarm her, and she quickly crumbles under your affection. her mask fades into something sweet and vulnerable. "are you sure?"
"oh, i'm so sure," you grin affectionately, draping your arms on her shoulders. "my favorite old man—"
ellie's eyes narrow instantly, cutting you off with an 'oh no, you don't' expression. "i will rip this damn sweater in half, i swear to god—"
you lean in to interrupt her half-hearted threat right back with an apologetic kiss.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 9 months ago
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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖
── mdni sexual content ; how the boys would tease you in bed. inclusive of: pet name usage, dirty talk, praise, edging, heavy petting, slight mentions of: vaginal sex, fingering, nipple play, oral (f. receiving) ✨
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⁺₊ / an: i am a big supporter of these 4 being absolutely infuriating !! xavier's has references to "pretty little mess" if you've caught it 🤭
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caleb was impatient at heart. the way he teased you would never have you begging, but always buckling under the weight of his desires, always hiding your face in embarrassment, at every way he'd elicit sounds from you that you didn't even know you could make. you've known him for practically all your life; the mere thought that he could get you like this, see you like this, made you flush impossibly red with embarrassment... and he knew. he'd call you pipsqueak when he spoke, a testament of the closeness of your relationship, and you would barely retain your sanity. he'd praise you, too—relaying in your ears how good you feel and how pretty you look with his cock buried deep into you, telling you every fantasy he'd had in his head, going on about how he's addicted to your pussy and he'd never be the same without it. every dirty word from his mouth had you whimpering, clenching around his length—you hated it, but you loved it. "Oh, fuck, pipsqueak... Takin' me so well like that... fuck, you're just so, so good—"
rafayel would simply be so aggravating. the two of you are always teasing each other, and he'd always find a way to get on your nerves one way or another. so, in the bedroom... well. he'd be smirking at the way your hips would chase his whenever he pulled out of you, almost laughing at your expense, pure amusement written over every inch of his body. he loved you, yes—but he'd never let you cum. not when he was in control; not when he delighted in your whines and your whimpers, begging him for more. he'd simply rub on your arm, mocking coos into your ear about how needy you are—time and time again, whether it be from his fingers or his tongue or his cock, he would dare to leave you thrashing on his bed, your release slipping away from you slowly, slowly. it would render you sensitive to his every touch. closer and closer, reaching the peak of your high quicker every time he edged you... until just a kiss, just a nip against your skin, and you'd be shaking—coming undone, spilling over his sheets. only then would he proceed to fuck you senseless. "wow, so desperate for me! what a cutie~ you want to cum, don't you?"
xavier? sweet, innocent xavier, like you've always known him to be... not. xavier, the little shit, he's deliberate. he'd have fingers trailing all over your skin, barely-there touches that have your hair raising in response. he'd place light, feathery kisses, from your jawline, to your neck, to your collarbone... and he'd have the audacity to breathe so close to your ear, claiming he just wants to cuddle—he doesn't, obviously he doesn't. but he pretends. he pretends like he doesn't know what he's doing to you. and he'd never touch you any more than that until he got his fill, until you would rub your thighs and his ears would perk at the subtle sounds of your wetness. xavier knows exactly how to get you riled up, weak in his arms, mumbling about the unfairness of it all, whining to him how you just want him to fuck you already and skip all these pointless theatrics... but he won't stop. not until he wants to. it doesn't matter how many times you beg. if he wants to see you get even more desperate for him, then he will. "but, angel, why? i'm barely doing anything to you... are you already so wet...?"
zayne always knows what you want. of course he does, he's easily memorized every one of your expressions, every one of your reactions; what gets you clenching tight around his cock and how exactly to make you throw your head back moaning. but he won't do it. he won't do it unless you tell him to, unless he hears the words directly fall from you lips, dictating to him in detail exactly what you want him to do to you. it was never easy for you to do in the first place, so embarrassed of the filthy words coming from your mouth—but he'd make it even harder. be it the friction of his cock gliding in and out of your pussy, or the way his lips would swirl around your nipples, or maybe even just the way he'd look at you—intense, observant, waiting. you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone try to speak in words he could actually understand. "what's wrong, sweetheart? you know you have to tell me. come on, it's not too hard, is it? open your mouth. speak."
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© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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xo-codbby · 2 months ago
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thinking about playboy!ghost x manhater!reader 🍒🖤
callsign: cherry. 18+
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you loved your team but the truth remained the same, men simply sucked. too many times had you been burnt out, learning constant lessons over and over preferring to know someone properly before you introduced them to your bed. while ghost was just purely physical, just needing release. he didn't want to engage in deep conversation, he swore off of love years ago but there wasn't harm in chasing gratification for his physical needs even if he left a string of broken hearts behind him
ghost is cocky in the fact that he knows he looks good, he knows he has women at his disposable without saying a word. his bed warmed by frequent visitors, many wanting to come back but not getting the chance to. a soft scoff leaving your lips whenever you see a woman hanging onto his arm, practically lapping at his every word. the sight makes you recoil away but it only makes him want to aggravate you that much more
absolutely hating one another when you both first met.
according to him, you were too stuck up. your terrible attitude, your prudish behaviour, little miss know it all. he disliked it all and you had been the same, his arrogant cocky personality paired with his unbearable sarcasm. just another womaniser. you disliked him more than words could explain.
and yet the line between hate and love was a fine line indeed
getting teased around base relentlessly by him
"c'mere cherry, let me show you how to let off some steam-" "fuck right off"
ghost constantly offering you a quick lay whenever the team finished up a particularly stressful mission. gaz and soap chuckling at the snark you gave back, the only one to your defence was price offering a gentle hand and a stern look to ghost who rolled his eyes
but him getting so jealous when you get the attention of another man, when he sees you talking to someone else around the barracks it felt different. it felt intimate, too close for his liking. and with some forceful persuasion from price, he found out the new sergeant had taken a liking to you. and regrettably, you were starting to feel something for him too. he doesn't know why it pisses him off so much but he'll be damned if he doesn't wreak hell on the bastard
his absolute favourite way to piss you off is inviting a woman to his bed, making her scream and moan out his name as loud as he can,
"that's all y'can do f'me? louder doll, lemme hear just how good it feels"
as he's thrusting so deep into her cunt but it doesn't feel the same like it used to. he won't be able to cum until he's imagining your face, imagining the pretty sounds he'd coax from your lips.
how his cock would throb deep into your willing pussy, how he'd rub the tip of aching cock against your entrance relishing in the way you squeezed him so tightly. the very sight almost makes him groan out your name, even the thought of tasting your slick makes him shiver in anticipation.
and of course it's your room beside him, you're subjected to listening this woman's moans and how great he's making her feel. a warm feeling stirring deep between your legs but you refuse to engage in his stupidity cursing at him as you throw yet another book at the wall. the sounds only stir him on, competing with you who could make the loudest sounds.
it's only when price, again, yells out a sharp command from the depths of his room that it's silence once more
the next morning you're woken up by gaz and soap laughing and hooting at him, heading to the kitchen to see his dark brown eyes twinkle as he looks at you. he stands against the counter, a mug of tea in his hands. his balaclava pulled up over his nose while he eyes you up and down stalking your every move
"an' how'd you sleep, cherry?"
his voice is a hoarse rumble from having woken up, his cocky grin as he looks at you over. wondering if you had touched yourself to his sounds he let spill just for you, wondering whether you squeezed your legs tightly or grinded against the pillow for some relief
but your eyes roll and brows furrow, not wanting to entertain his bullshit. only offering a smartass comment as you look back at your phone. the very sight makes him want to pounce on you, to show you what you were missing
but say one day you get your heart broken and the feelings come head to head, piss drunk as you knock thrice on his door watching him open with a disgruntled look on his face
"bloody 'ell, y'gonna bash my door in-"
doesn't even get the words out before you've pulled him to your face and kissing him feverishly, the door slamming shut behind you both. but when you get to the bed, the alcohol and the heightened emotions lull you into a deep sleep as he sighs softly. looking around before setting you down and laying next to you. grumbling softly how you're lucky to be sleeping in his bed
he doesn't even have sex but he swears it's the most intimate he's ever been with someone
so playboy ghost, the man who would pay for ladies ubers so they wouldn't sleep in his personal space, the man who chose to fuck casually with no feeling, the man who swore off love altogether held you captive in his arms snuggling into you.
the very man who broke the vow he made not to ever get entangled with emotions had clung to you like you were his lifeline in a torrential sea and you had escaped his clutches like a thief in the night like he had done so many times to others. and perhaps if he wasn't so heartbroken he might've laughed at the irony of the situation, what comes around goes around
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recareels · 4 months ago
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⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + grinding on his fingers while he works!
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character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, extreme teasing, dom/sub power dynamics, pet names (darling, angel, sweetheart), tiny bit of degradation (needy slut), toxic relationship (sunday is a lil mean/controlling/overbearing), taps into sunday’s god complex  words: 1.4k
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Thinking about Sunday’s fingers; long, slim, warmed by the gloves, his heat radiating off the thin material. Thinking about not even riding them, but humping them, using them while he deals with something far more important. He won’t put them inside of you, refuses to even take off his gloves as he wedges a hand between your thighs, claiming that this is more than enough to make you cum, sweetheart and he knows you can do it, he knows you can get off from just this. 
Because you’re such a needy little slut for him, aren’t you? Pathetic and acquiescent and willing to take whatever the fuck he’ll give you, even if it’s merely the very tips of his fingers, just scarcely brushing your throbbing clit. 
It’s up to you to do all the work—you’re the one who wanted it, after all; you’re the one who couldn’t sit proper and patient and wait for him to finish with his tasks and duties, too eager and desperate for the tiniest piece of him to stand it—and he declines to put in any effort at all, simply keeping his fingers still and stiff, a hairs width from your cunt. 
As such, it’s your responsibility to make yourself feel good.
He barely pays you a shred of attention throughout the entire tedious process, gaze prim and focused on the documents spread neatly across his desktop, his free hand leafing through papers and jotting down notes. 
But despite his cool, calm, seemingly unaffected demeanour, you know better. 
Because you can see it; his cock, hard and huge and straining against white trousers, just begging for relief. You can hear it; those gentle, almost imperceptible hitches in his breath—a subtle response to your own sweet little noises, whiny little mewls and airy little moans, sounds that melt in the heat of your mouth, sugared frustration on your tongue.  
Every brush of your clit against his fingers pushes another one from your pouty lips, features pinched and tight with concentration, muscles coiled and tense as they work and flex, desperate to achieve your goal. 
Yet despite what Sunday had claimed, it truly isn’t enough, each soft swipe of his fingers only working to fuel the fire roiling in your belly, spritzing kerosene on the flames but never fostering an explosion. 
“S’not enough, Sir,” you whimper after nearly an hour of this routine, a heavy ache beginning to settle deep within your flesh, 
“It’s not enough,” he corrects you, not sparing you a glance. “And I assure you it is, darling. Come, now, be a good girl for me, and show me that you can cum from just my fingertips.” 
“I can’t, I can’t,” you hiccup, lids squeezing shut as tears nip at your vision, aggravation budding at the corners of your eyes. “I need more!”
“Don’t get greedy, now,” he chastises, an implicit warning woven into the sentence. “You’ve already taken one of my hands away, and considerably slowed down my productivity, interrupting my workflow with your neediness. Isn’t that enough?” 
A flash of guilt sears through your stomach, bitter and sharp, and you lip juts out even further,  puckering your chin. 
He’s right—You know he’s right. He’s already making a sacrifice for you by just giving you this—time is money, time is power, time is control, and you’re eating up a substantial amount with your disgraceful desire. How much more selfish could you possibly be? 
“M’sorry, Master,” you slur out, eyes shut tightly enough to crinkle your lids as you attempt to scrape together the tatters of your concentration. “I’m sorry.” 
Sunday says nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitches, curls upward with something sick and sadistic, thick authority cracking in the atmosphere around him. 
With renewed resolve, your hips begin to swivel again, grinding your swollen clit against sheathed fingers. His fingertips flutter softly, just teasing, and your movements speed up, rocking into his feathery touch, the motion just shy of satisfying. 
Something similar to vexation chokes in your throat; a half-stifled groan smothered by your determination to be good, to obey. 
You will not complain again. 
The quick, light drumming of his fingers against your clit ceases a mere moment before your pleasure crests—it’s a curse, how proficiently he knows your body, how perfectly he can decode those precious little gasps, slipping unwittingly from your lips and tinged with exasperation, and those pathetic little ruts, pelvis stuttering as it chases his touch, stomach muscles coiled and clenched. 
He can read you so well, too well, almost as if he made you himself, took blood and bone between his palms and molded it into flesh, into his personal little angel—he is your creator, and you worship him flawlessly. 
It’s obscene, just how wet you are, copious amounts of arousal soaking through the cotton of his gloves to prune his fingers, turning the material slippery, puffy clit gliding over it with fluid ease.
It’s embarrassing, just how wet you are, thick dribbles of slick streaming down Sunday’s drenched digits to collect in little pools on the webs between his knuckles. It’s overflowing, leaking onto his palm slow and steady to seep into the fabric, now stained with evidence of your desire clinging to his hand. 
You’re saturated in sweat by the time you finally manage to orgasm, thin linen of your dress plastered to your form, contouring every dip and curve of your body, outlining every heave of your chest. A garland of tiny beads is strung along your hairline and collarbone, glistening dewdrops streaming down your cheeks and neck and leaving pretty shimmering trails of damp salt in their wake. 
Strands of matted hair stick to your temples, your thighs still tensing around Sunday’s now rigid hand, hips continuing to gyrate in sloppy little circles as you chase residual sparks of pleasure, quick jolts of overstimulation rippling your flesh. 
But despite the dull, dense ache in your muscles, heavy with exhaustion and filled with sand, and the prodigal sparks of pain-dyed ecstasy, pushing sharp hisses through the gaps of your clenched teeth with each bout through your blood, you just can’t seem to stop.
“Th-Thank you, Sunday, Sir, thank you, thank you,” you’re babbling out in hiccups, words hitching in time with the motions of your hips. 
So polite, his sweet little seraph, so devoted to making your gratitude known—it is, in essence, only right to thank your god after he grants you a tiny piece of heaven, a single taste of bliss, Sunday knows. And your reverence will not go unrewarded. 
Because your reverence far exceeds great respect and high regard; your reverence bleeds into veneration, obsession, addiction. Your love knows no bounds. 
Your love is voracious in its worship, devouring any morsel of attention or affection he grants you and being grateful for it—even something as small and insignificant as a fingertip. 
It’s fucking exhilarating to experience such power, and it sends a heady shot of rhapsody straight to his brain, dazing him and infusing his blood. He can feel it oozing out of every pore, clinging to his form like a protective shield, reinvigorating his hegemony and reaffirming his authority.
Yearning against his pants, his cock twitches, the stitches threaded across the groin stretched taut with how hard he is. 
His hand is doused in you—your cum and your sweat and your arousal—and he pulls it free from your flexing thighs to examine it, holding it up in front of his face and turning it; first this way, then that, leisurely admiring the way every inch of his glove gleams in the diffused sun spilling past the stained glass. Sheathed in you, it almost looks like a shimmery satin.
“Such a mess,” he grits out, the words wispy and ragged. “Such a pretty mess you made for me.” 
A pair of gloved fingers tap together in a scissor-like motion, slow and controlled, pupils blown wide with awe as he watches the slick material stick to itself, glimmering in the setting sunlight and separating with minimal effort, strings of your cum strung between the appendages, webby, quivering slightly. 
You’ve since slumped against him, face nearly buried in his bicep as he appreciates the gift you’ve given him. Your breath is hot and humid against his neck, panted out through parted lips in uneven little huffs and stammered by soft whines.
“Rest, angel,” he murmurs, cheek laid against your head after he’s peeled the soiled glove from his skin and stashed it away in a desk drawer for safe keeping. “You did well.”
He knew you would. A god is never wrong, after all.
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carolmunson · 4 months ago
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blood machine.
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emperor geta x senator's daughter!reader songspiration: in keeping secrets of the silent earth 3 | coheed & cambria
did not once plan to write for this guy but here we are. also like, is it historically accurate? no. like, not even a little. (hell is mentioned and technically hell wasn't 'a place' until 400 BC but like WHATEVER.) am i making a semi effort? sorta kinda. have i been a little stoned every time i've worked on this? well, yes.
summary: when what was supposed to be a diplomatic dinner before a much bigger and lively feast becomes a marriage offer, all of the wine you drank turns to ash in your mouth. haters to haters, bay-bee. tw: 18+, drinking but like -- idk it's ancient rome, tension, fighting, some mild body shaming (??), a literal threat of domestic violence but again it's ancient rome so like i don't think they cared, two stupid little bitches who hate each other. mentions of war and ultimate distaste for the poor. reader kind of has lady macbeth vibes. my little evil queen.
Wine is poured, golden chalices exalted. You are a vision and he is a toad looking creature of a man that only his mother could love. Not quite his brother, never quite measuring up the same way -- always trying to puff his chest. It was easy to tease him, ego easy to bruise -- little brother. You’d spent time in your childhood tagging along with your brother and the other kids to taunt him, pathetic and whimpering. 'Tale teller!' you'd jeer, every time he'd run off to his mother to blubber over how mean you all were. And you were mean.
But people grow, as they do. And so did you -- still mean, but in a different way. Listening to meetings, reading maps, keeping tabs on new republics, on potential uprising. The poor -- the fucking poor. Finding new ways to keep them occupied so that they'd stop trying to find ways to be powerful. Powerful like you. Powerful like the man at the head of the table with a plum to his lips. And as it has been said, a man in possession of a good fortune and power, must be in need of a wife. It became clear when you arrived that this was not a business dinner before a grand feast, your parents simply forgot to mention what this was really about. Your best linens, your hair coiffed, your best jewelry, you should have known it had been a ruse the moment you got there. His home on Palatine just sparkling the way the gold on your fingers did, candles in the halls and stairways glittering when they hit the rubies and pearls on your chest and ears. When your father veers the conversation from politics and business to marriage you both choke, stern eyes glued to your mother's painted face. A business dinner where you are currency -- more than worthy. Just a few months shy of being eligible when Caracalla was, regrettably, forced to marry Flavia at the last moment. It would've been nice to have the gang together again in some capacity. Could've bullied the toad to assasinating himself if you were lucky enough. Total power. Complete upheaval. The more you thought about it, the more of it your craved. The pit in your stomach grew, if it wasn't with his brother -- even though you bore no attraction -- there was not a point at all. Geta didn't think nearly as critically, didn't hit hard enough, didn't strategize correctly. You'd never even seen him pick up a sword -- but then again, that made sense. You very rarely spent time in his palace, much prefering the festivities of Caracalla's close by.
You listen while your mother goes on and on about his grace, tongue dipped in honey while she blabbers. She mentions how handsome he is, his valiance in leadership, how honorable he's become as he's taken the place of his late father -- you can't help yourself but laugh. The giggle echos and bounces through the high ceilings, floating against the archways, getting caught in the drapery by the open hall. His eyes flick to you over his goblet, catching in the candle light, an aggravated sneer plaguing his face. He looks like a pig when he does that, you think to yourself.
You know that business, for the most part, is a man's game. But it does not deter you from doing your best to try and wager yourself out of this. Ideas drip into your mind while the drone of the conversation turns to fuzz in the background. How can you sell that this is a bad idea? It will bring less publicity, less of a threat, less resposibility if married to someone with equal nobility. Certainly not an emperor. Especially not one like this. So petulant, so competitive, so eager for a war he does not know how to plan, so temperamental, so weak, so conniving, so consumed with the colosseum that he doesn't think of what should be done around him. It's his voice that brings you back to attention.
"And why is it she hasn't been taken for a wife then, at this age?" he asks, brow quirking in your direction. You let out of huff of offense while he sips his wine, metal clinking as he places it back down. A smirk flits across his features at the remark, "Is something wrong with her?"
Your father, sweating with embarrassment, looks over at you and back at the emperor, "Well she, she's of course beautiful." Geta winces, cocking his head to the side with a shrug. Your father sighs, desperate to try to find a better angle, "She um, she -- she has great wits, Ceasar, unmatched. She knows her duties as a wife, but -- a great thinker. She could -- she could be helpful!" "Wits," he mumbles sourly under his breath before leaning back leisurely in his chair, "Great thinker? Very surprising." "August--" your father starts. "Co--" you correct over a sip of wine, "Co-Augustus."
Geta tosses you another sour look, tongue running over his teeth before clicking it behind his lips. You shrug while swallowing. "Semantics, Publius," you wave a hand at him. A hush falls over the room as his gaze snaps up at you, blanching at the disrespect of being called by his first name. Your mother hides her face in her napkin with a groan. Your father leans his temple against his fingers, eyes closed in frustration. "Mind how you address me," Geta corrects with a stern pull to his lips, eyes glittering with rage. Your eyes catch over the mountains of food before you, holding your glass out as one of his servants pours you another glass of wine. "Is that not what your mother calls you?" your voice feathery, but certain. A vein begins to raise and pulse in his neck while his shoulders round forward.
"Please apologize, dear," your mother mutters, putting the napkin back on the table, "Tell -- tell the emperor what it would mean, to be -- to be wed to someone of such calibur."
Your eyes stay on his, challenging him while your mother begs you to say something to make amends. Another sip of wine passes your lips, "No, shan't."
Your mother scolds you, your full name escaping her with embarrassment tainting her tongue. Sweat beads at your father's forehead while he changes the subject, doing aything to try to keep his good favor with both sides of the imperatorship.
You grin into your goblet at the sight of Geta's face -- reddened with anger and frustration at the brazen disrespect. But it was fine to continue to be an enemy if it meant you would leave these regal walls and never have to step foot in them again. And if you did, it would be as another senator's wife, visiting his brother in another house where you'll laugh and drink wine and cheer when he's killed.
Even his posture is revolting, hunched over while he listens to your father speak. Now going on and on about paper work that doesn't interest you if it doesn't have a say on who is next on the list to conquer. Your eyes glaze over in boredom while pomergranate, honey pudding, and dates are placed on the table. Rose wine replaces the red to sweeten the tongue -- you're sure your parents wished it were true.
It's not very long after dessert is served that your parents start again.
"As you know, she does come from a family of very fertile women," your father encourages. You quickly swallow the bite of date you'd taken to interrupt, nearly choking, "Excuse me, I'm not sure this is appropriate dinner conversation."
Geta looks at you while you speak, scanning you and then lingering on the dessert in your hand, "Her hips are quite sizeable -- big enough to bear multiple childen, that's certain. Is that her only sell?"
Anger bubbles under your chest, but warning looks from both of your parents keeps your sharp tongue between your lips. The grip on your goblet tightens, jaw clenching while your pass another sip through gritted teeth. You let a seething breath out through your nose. "As I tried to explain before," your father continues, "She is very on the pulse in terms of the political climate and, and, and great with strategy." "I'm not looking for a wife who tries to strategize for me--" he responds coolly. "From how the empire has not expanded since your father's death I would guess that perhaps you should be," you snap back smartly. His posture straightens, chains and medallions across his chest glinting in the candle light. The room quiets itself again, only the sound of untensils and cups being put down or collected filling the dead air. The soft scrape of metal, the rustle of linens while servants and guards alike avert their gaze downward.
"Leave us," he states, voice pungent with authority. You stretch your neck on both sides while the servants depart, already bored with the back and forth. Already moved on from the eventual scolding and potential exile that won't get put into motion because you are simply too friendly with the rest of the upcoming generals and politicians. One rogue idiot who barely has the power his brother has, that his father never trained into him, could not dole a punishment that is worth your genuine fear.
You sigh, hearing the staff make their way down the long stone corridors into the grand halls to prepare for a more formal party with other higher status families. More likely a collection of offerings for him to choose from, other parents trying to arrange a marriage with the empire's most powerful and eligible bachelor. It would be one of the few times the brothers would have to engage with each other, which you're sure put Geta more on edge than normal.
"Senator, please take your wife to the grand hall to be seated," he commands, his voice lower, delving darker. The vein in his neck continues to pulse, forearms straining against the golden cuffs over his wrists, "The guards will accompany you."
You watch as your parents rise, bowing their heads before following the guards out of the room and through the blood red drapery hung from gilded valances. Geta's eyes stay hardened on you, and yours him, while you rise as well, taking a few steps around the large wooden table toward the exit. "Not you," he says, not turning to face you, "You will stay." "It is not appropriate for me to be unaccopanied in the pres--" "Do not speak," he huffs, hand coming up to silence you, "Your voice grates on me." "Then you can imagine what your own voice does, Augustus," you say without thinking, letting the insults flow out of you like the fountain water in the courtyards. He pushes away from the table, steadily walking towards you with enough vigor that the bottom of his cape starts to billow behind him. On his way, he pulls a sword from a guard's holster, dragging it so the tip grinds against the stone, making your jaw clench at the shrill sound.
"What happens to those who speak against me?" he asks, steps clicking against the floor from the studs on the bottom of his sandals. He begins to stalk around you, circling while he waits for an answer. "Execution," you respond, keeping your eyes on the drapery just twenty feet ahead of you. "What else?" he asks, you can feel his breath behind you, the whining grind of the sword against the stone making your shoulders tense. "Exile," you answer, a laugh bubbling out of you, "But I can't imagine your brother agreeing to either of those. You'd really banish me, Publius? Because I was a little mean to you?" When he appears in front of you again, your lips stretch into a sickeningly sweet smile, sarcasm staining your tone, "But we're such old friends."
He cocks his head to the side, taking a step closer with the sword between you, "Oh, I wouldn't do that to you."
He leans forward, enough that you can smell the rose wine on his breath. His voice quiet and menacing, "Though -- it could be that the senator said something to offend me tonight at dinner. It could be that perhaps he -- spoke poorly of my dear brother or my late father. Something just dastardly enough to sour my brother's respect for him." "And you expect Caracalla to believe that?" "In what way does it benefit me to lie about it?" he challenges, "And even more so -- with your father exiled, where does that leave you?"
You swallow thickly, not giving him the satisfaction of replying while your look into his now wild brown eyes. Flashing with mania and endless possibility.
"A peasant," he spits.
"If it keeps me out of these halls I should be lucky, no?" you fire back, looking at him from under furrow brows. He continues to circle you, dragging the sword again. The click, click, click of his shoes keeping time in your head. "I'm sure my brother would be happy to keep you as a pet in the meantime," he laughs to himself, "Or we could put you in the colosseum, you think you'd fare well?" "Better than you could, that's certain," you cross your arms over your chest, "Could never stand up and fight like a man, even as a kid. Your father would be embarrassed."
The grinding gets louder as he presses harder down, causing small sparks to fly from the edge of the sword.
"If you were to be chosen, would ever even attempt to learn respect?" he asks sharply, "Or would it have to be beaten into you?" You snort, "At least you're the funnier brother, you have that going for you." You can see him out of your periphery, the way he pulls his cheeks in, the roll of his shoulders -- he's losing patience. "What, would you prefer I called you Geta? Augustus? Ceasar?" your eyes roll. A soft cackle comes from his through, canines showing in a gleeful smile, "No, no -- from you? I'd much prefer something more respectful." Click, click, click. The grind of the sword. The rose on his breath. "Dominus," he nods with the threat, "Dominus et Deus."
"You disgust me," you respond quickly. "As a husband and as emperor is that not my title, already?" he shrugs, looking at you like it's obvious.
"You are nobodies Lord and God, you are a petulant -- sniveling -- repulsive little brother who is only where he is by being lucky to be born," you glower.
"You still see me as a child, femina," he tuts, "I promise you, what ever Caracalla has told you is a tapestry of made up stories. You could hang it on the tallest arch and it would hit the floor ten times over."
"I do see just a whining child before me," you hiss, "I'm sure you'll run to your mother after this, too."
His chuckle turns to a low, dark laugh from deep in his chest. It crawls up your spine and rings in your ears, mixing with the grating 'shhhhhhinnnngggg' of the sword on the ground.
"If it were fate that there was union between us," he asks from behind you, "What would you say to that?"
You look straight ahead, hearing the click of his shoes. The heat of the torches on the walls billowing onto your face while you keep your eyes on the drapery, still closed -- still keeping you here.
"It would be a fate worse than the hottest hell," you confess, your voice not wavering.
The whine of the sword stops, sheathed into his belt. The click of his shoes halts.
Quiet.
Rose wine on his breath, you feel it on your skin now, his chest against your back while he closes the space between you. A hand reaches up to push the hair from your neck, the other gripping the fat of your hip to pull you ruthlessly against him in a thud. Your eyes shut, bile crawling up your throat in disgust. His nose coasts against the shell of your ear, making you tilt your head away while goosebumps rise on your arms. Through a knowing grin he whispers, the words burrowing deep in your chest in loathing and a glimmer of fear: "I pray every moment of it burns you."
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f1nalboys · 6 months ago
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Could you do a Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Reader oneshot that's just super kinky I'm just fienin for some billy and stu smut 🙏
MY RETURN TO POLY GHOSTFACEEEEEEEE!!!! anon thank u very much for this request (and dont worry, i got the other one!!!) and i super duper hope u like it!!! it did make me realize i havent written a praise focused fic in FOREVER so sorry if im a little rusty D:
Poly!Ghostface x GN!Reader
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WORD COUNT: 1132
WARNINGS: nsfw, hair pulling, praise, creampie, begging, reader isn't gendered but does get called pretty and beautiful, billy likes to watch <3, established relationship, kinda proofread
Billy and Stu knew how to make you tick in every way. Stu was great at aggravating you just enough to get you to pay attention to him, easily earning your affection back in just a few words. Billy could break you down, build you up, and do it over and over again until it made your head swim. Being with them meant you were on edge, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But then there were times, like now, where you didn’t have to worry about anything other than cumming.
“There you go, baby,” Stu’s voice is muffled despite him being right behind you, his lips at your ear, his breath hot against your sweaty skin. He’s moving so slowly, cock pushing deep inside you and dragging out at an agonizing pace. You want to yell at him, tell him to move faster, go harder, something, but the only thing that comes out is a weak whine. He laughs and you feel it vibrate against your back. “Aw, sweet little thing is tryin’ to tell us something, Billy.”
Your eyes open and you do your best to blink away the haze. Billy is in front of you on the bed, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watches Stu fuck you. Your hands are on Stu’s knees, your own legs bent uncomfortably backwards so you were sitting in his lap. “You gotta use your words, Y/N.” Billy says smoothly, tilting his head, voice smug. “You want him to stop?”
“No!” You say quickly, nails digging into Stu’s skin, your eyes widening enough to earn a laugh from Billy. Your voice is hoarse, raw from your constant babbles of pleasure over the last hour. “More,” you say, wiggling your hips slightly, your head tilting forwards as a sharp gasp rips through you. “Please, need it.” Billy watches with a pleased smirk as you begin to take over for Stu, using your hands on his knees as leverage to push yourself up and down, sinking down onto his cock.
Stu groans at the feeling, his hips flexing slightly. “Fuck, Billy, man… they’re so fuckin’ tight.” His hands rest on your hips, mouth agape as he pants, watching his cock disappear inside you. “So sexy like this, so fucked out, aren’t you, baby?” He asks, his usual laugh cut off by a moan. “Y/N?” You don’t answer. Your eyes are closed, your breaths coming quick, focused solely on the building pleasure in your gut. You barely even register the bed shifting before you feel thick fingers tangle into your hair, tugging your head back up roughly. 
“Hey,” Billy says sharply, fingers still tugging at your hair. Your eyes are open now, head bent back enough to force you to look him in the eyes, and he watches you with a pleased grin. “Stu asked you a question. You better answer unless you want him to stop. And you don’t want that, do you?” He tsks, shaking his head mockingly, his free hand leaving his cock to touch you between your legs. You gasp sharply, tightening around Stu, causing him to dig into your hips to push you down onto his cock even more. Billy’s gaze is unwavering. “Feels like you don’t want that.”
“Way they’re tightening around me, fuck, they better not want me to stop. Not even sure I could pull out.” Stu teases, placing sloppy kisses against your jaw and down your neck to your shoulder. Your head was beginning to throb from where Billy was still gripping your hair but the thought of him letting go, replacing the pain and his fingers with a dull thud, seemed unbearable. “Too tight, you know that, Y/N? Too fuckin’ pretty, too. Fuck, I love you like this, you know that? So sweet.” 
“You’re gettin’ ‘em excited, Stu,” Billy grins, his hand moving in tangent with Stu’s thrusts. “Baby, you better tell Stu you don’t want him to stop or you won’t get to cum.” Billy’s voice is soft and he’s leaning in, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock is aching, untouched, but you know better than to do so without his go ahead. “C’mon, baby, you can do it. Beg Stu not to pull out so you can cum. God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that? I mean, shit, Stu; you ever met someone like ‘em? So perfect?” Stu answers with a grunt and a quick shake of his head, going harder. Billy hisses as his cock twitches. “Fuck, you can touch me after you cum, baby, doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Yes-”
“Always trying to get your hand on my dick,” Billy grins, his hand speeding up, the pleasure building in your stomach tripling in less than a second. “So fuckin’ cute, so dirty, aren’t you? Sexy fuckin’ thing, God, c’mon, start begging so we can reward you.” 
Billy almost sounds desperate, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before, and his grip in your hair loosens as he kisses you. Stu’s pace increases, barely pulling you up off his cock before slamming up into you. He’s grunting with the force but he’s holding back and you can tell; he’s waiting for you to beg. 
“Please, fuck, please don’t stop,” you cry out inbetween messy kisses, your face growing hot as your stomach tightens. “F-fuck, I wanna cum, I swear, please let me cum! I need it, I need to touch you,” you say to Billy and he nips at your bottom lip, pleased, “And I need you to cum in me. Please!” You cry, tears burning at your eyes from holding onto the edge of your orgasm. You watch as Billy’s eyes flick back towards Stu, darkening slightly, before he meets your eyes again and nods. 
You cum hard, vision growing blurry at the edges as you let out a strangled cry. Billy and Stu don’t stop their movements, working together to make your orgasm last as long as it could. “H-holy fuck!” Stu grunts, your tight hole finally sending him over the edge. He cums, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you seated fully on his cock. “So fuckin’ perfect, there you go… take every drop, baby…” he coos softly, head resting on your shoulder as his hips flex, pumping everything he could into you. You let out a shaky breath, a weak hand pushing at Billy’s. He listens for once, grinning at how out of it you seem, and he dips his head towards you to give you a few kisses. “Happy anniversary, baby,” Billy whispers, brushing his nose along your cheek. You grin, worn out but pleased, your hand moving to rub against Billy’s cock. He sucks in a breath, looking down at his lap, before grinning. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
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