#my baby my baby youre my baby say it to me
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alymango · 6 hours ago
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MY SHAYLAAAAAAA 🥹🥹
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what if i die
credit !!
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bootycallin · 2 days ago
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B(W)ETTER THAN ME !?
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꩜ .ᐟ basically: vi hears from you that it's practically impossible for you to cüm without having your cłít played with, and guys never seem to find it to begin with. she takes that as a challenge.
cw: female reader with female anatomy. close friend vi. you can read this as modern au if you want, idfk. sťráp usage. dòğgý sțýlê and then into another pöşițion idk the name of. mänhándłíng. mentions of ědgîñg. petnames (doll, baby, etc.). óvërştimülátion? sqüířtíng. very self indulgent if you couldn't tell. no plot just pórn.
a/n; shoutout to my girls who are literally impossible to please without playing w they cl*t, we fightin for our lives over here. don’t expect a lot of pretty looking posts like this, i got excited. again, if any stuffs missing, pls tell me!! hope u like it…
NSFW UTC
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"oh, really, doll?" it was an innocent conversation at first, you swore it was. you really don't know how it wound up with you bent over, face down ass up in your bed. your dearest friend, vi, right behind you. pounding into you. "it's frustrating," you said. "i can never cum from somebody just fucking me. no guy even knows that the clit exists either." you had been around vi enough to confide in her, even with your most intimate stories and complaints. what you didn't know is that by saying that, you inadvertantly challenged her.
"fuck, vi, wait--" you gasp, hand clumsily reaching behind you, feeling up her hipbone to her hard abs, glistened with sweat. "break. break. break." she had been plowing into you for what felt like hours now. realistically, it might only be a few minutes, but it's far longer than any other dude you had a fling with. for a second you wonder what the fuck she's eating to have this sort of stamina, because it sure as hell isn't human. "hurts?" she asked you, tone way too kind and sweet for the position she had you in. "no," you pant. "just... just gimme a sec--" it didn't hurt. quite the opposite-- it felt amazing. like nirvana except maybe ten times filthier. she was pounding you to cloud nine and back and gods, it felt good, but you still hadn't cum. right, she didn't play with your clit once. because she has to prove a point! she doesn't care how long shes gonna spend plowing into you with this goddamn strap, she wants to give you the best orgasm of your life, clit untouched. right now, for somebody that had never done this-- it was torture. a constant build-up, her tip repeatedly kissing the deepest places inside you until you felt like she was in your guts, rubbing against your slick walls, filling you up so good. it was too much, but not enough at the same time.
you didn't know, but she was being tortured too. she silently vowed to herself the moment she manhandled you onto your bed that she would not cum until you did. so, she's just sorta been edging herself for the past, like, seven minutes. may the higher lords of sex bless doggy, because were you to see her face right now, her ego would be destroyed. sweaty, red, nearly teary-eyed.
"want me to sto-"
"no," you answer just a tad too quickly. she cracks an amused huff at that, hands trailing up and down the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh.
"fuck- just- gh!-"
you didn't have to finish the goddamn sentence, because when you were about to, vi has your wrists in her hands, pulling back and slamming forward into you with a guttural growl. it’s harsher, it’s meaner, and it feels so goddamn good.
you don't even realize what's happening until your back presses against her chest. she pulled you up against her, hands still wrapped tightly together as she rut into you. with the closer proximity, her face buried into the crook of your neck. you could hear her panting, groaning, growling with every smack of her hips against yours. oh, and she could hear every little cry that came from you when she rut into that little spot you always found hard to reach.
oh, vi. shit, fuck, fuck me, yes. oh, she's gonna be dreaming about you for a while after this.
"viii!--" you whine, throwing your head back. there it was again, that heat bubbling in your stomach like a boiling pot, ready to boil over. it was stronger. far stronger. your head was fuzzy with the feeling.
"shit, vi-- fuck, fuck, fuck, i think i-"
"close, doll?" she growled. she just barely gives you the time to respond, shuffling a bit so she could angle her hips up, and oh-
"vi!" found it. head first (literally) ramming into that gooey, sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves, the good old g. bet none of those guys were able to find it, huh, baby?
she growls into your shoulder when she feels your stubby little nails scratch at her lower abdomen, where she held your wrists back tight. you were close, she was close, she could feel it. perfect.
"vi, wait, shiiit!--" you cry out, but she's not stopping. it's too much to process, unlike anything you've ever felt before. you can feel the pressure building exponentially, your abused little cunt spasming around her cock, clenching so tight she nearly finds it hard to move if it weren't for the drippy slick running down your folds. it's strange, and for a second you're worried with the pressure building in your bladder, only to send shocks up to your clit.
"fuck, shit, it's weird, vi--" your head lolls back against her shoulder, jaw hanging open as you let out wanton cries and babbles.
"it's 'right, baby. jus' let go, come on..." she doesn't know if shes talking to you or herself. but she knows it works--
you finally cum with a dragged out whine of her name (that almost sounded like a scream, to be fair. she's surprised your throat isn't hoarse). you swear you black out for a second, vision going white as you feel like you explode into pleasured little pieces. and--
oh. oh.
the splashing of that milky, yet watery liquid, gushing all over her cock. damn, that's fucking hot. you should see yourself from her point of view. not only does she make you cum, she makes you squirt. vi takes that as enough victory to rut into you until she reaches her own orgasm-- which, to be fair, doesn't take too long since she's been on the edge of cumming for the past few minutes. she buries her face into your shoulder, eyes screwed shut. it still steals a few more whimpers and whines from you--and from her too, but she manages to hide them by biting your shoulder with a grunt.
too weak by both of your highs to keep upright, she ends up sitting back down onto the mattress, letting go of your arms only to wrap her own around your waist, cinching you two closer from behind. her strap has long since slipped out of you, leaving you dripping and empty, but ultimately satisfied.
"enjoy yourself?" you need a few minutes to come to and fro, blinking a few times before you see where vi is looking and look towards the direction, only to see the darkened, wet spot of your own making on you sheets. fuck.
"oh shit, that's--" you sound embarrassed, and she's quick to cut you off.
"it's fine, baby. just glad you enjoyed yourself." she chuckled. gods, she's so sweet when she wants to be. she runs her hands over your sides, kissing your nape.
"but you owe it to me, was that not the best orgasm of your life?" she whispers into your ear, her hand trailing down and down and down, until her ring and middle finger press against your twitchy clit, earning a sharp gasp from you.
"imagine what i could do playing with this pretty thing, though?"
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𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ
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reignpage · 3 days ago
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Bear Necessities
Synopsis: what life is like married to brown bear hybrid!Nanami Warnings: 18+ mdni, smutty, fluffy, cursing, established relationship, marriage, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, baby fever, lactation kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, dom!nanami, backshot, mention of fleshlight, sub!reader, possessiveness, threat of violence or harm, creampie, knotting, not proofread Word Count: 3.5k
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Being married to Bear hybrid!Nanami means having to tip toe your entire relationship because he’s so tall. He does make the effort to hunch down for you, growling softly against your neck about how small and fragile his beautiful wife is. But he’s not always so nice. No, your Kento likes to tease, much to your chagrin.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be late for my morning class,” he remarks, peering at you over his glasses as you hold onto his shoulders for purchase, jumping to reach his face. “And you know I can’t possibly start my day without my morning kiss. You wouldn’t leave me waiting, would you?”
His words are sweet, always so sweet, but the way he’s pawing at your hips and dipping lower to squeeze your ass are nothing but. Lifting you up in one arm, he brings you face to face with his gentle grin, his pearly whites glinting in the morning sun. 
“Hi, darling,” he whispers.
Savouring his soft lips and feeling the soft bristles of his beard, you mutter, “I’ll miss you, Kenny.”
“I’ll miss you too, my darling love. But soon we’ll be away for hibernation, yes? And then you’ll have me all to yourself for months.”
“Dada!”
Kento laughs, a big smile taking over his face until his eyes are crinkling in the corner. With you still held up by one arm, he opens the other for your two cubs to jump onto him. Kenji, the eldest, climbs up his huge back, biting onto his father’s thick neck and growling in challenge. Whereas, Mio sits politely in his other arm, chubby hand petting his beard with wide eyes. 
“One of these days, we’ll all be too big to be carried like this, Kento,” you say with a sigh. 
The glimmer in his warm eyes melts your heart. “That day will never come, my love.”
“Yeah! Dada’s strong,” Kenji argues, to which his little sister agrees, nodding furiously.
“Alright, alright. Dada’s got to go to work, so let’s not hold him up any longer, okay?”
Shifting his tie into to place, you bid him farewell, the warmth of his body still imprinted on yours. He leaves you one last kiss against your forehead, eyes roving over his family, with his eldest puffing his chest out to say he’ll take over the big bear duties now. 
Satisfied, Kento is off to work and you jump on your kids, peppering kisses and attacking them with giggles. 
“Let’s go bake some cookies!”
Bear hybrid!Nanami isn’t always so mild-mannered. Though he isn’t quick to be riled up, there are, unfortunately, certain things that seem to trigger those prominent animalistic instincts. For example, he’s not particularly fond of the your neighbour. 
The single male is a husky who knocks on the door often, requesting sugar or dropping by gifts for the cubs. He’s completely harmless, if a little too bright and cheerful. In fact, you can tell he’s a good person, but that doesn’t matter for your husband. All males are a threat.
One evening, your neighbour knocks whilst Kento’s in the kitchen. Discussing the recent neighbourhood bake sale, you must have been gone far longer than your husband would have liked because he eventually appears behind you, impossibly taller and broader. 
He casts a shadow on you and on the husky who only grins cheekily. Winding a paw around your waist, he snaps his jaws together, flashing his canines. The message is clear: leave his territory now. Your neighbour retreats back, giving you one last wink before the door slams shut. 
Bear hybrid!Nanami buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply in rapid succession, chest heaving as you’re pinned to the door. His hold on you is calculatedly light enough to not hurt but they do threaten to leave indentations should you attempt to push him away as he’s recollecting himself. 
This doesn’t very often; something about that husky sets him off. You can’t say you hate when he’s like this. How could you when he’s shoving a leg between yours and caging you in his arms?
He’s shuffling his entire body against yours, rubbing his scent as thoroughly as he can. His thigh presses roughly against your moistening core. Gravelly, he groans, “Who are you married to?”
“You.”
A paw urges your hips up and down on his leg, seeking that tantalising honey from your insides. Kento stops inhaling, only to lick up the length of your neck, marking you so that there would be no confusion as to whom you belong to. His sharp teeth scrape the skin in warning — it isn’t enough for the others to know you’re his mate, you must know that too. 
“Again.”
“I’m your wife. I’m yours, Ken.”
You cum just like that, shuddering against his burly chest, buried in his pecs. He rubs soothing circles in your back in apology for his aggressive behaviour. Without much regret in his voice, he admits, “I’m terribly sorry, darling. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do,” you mumble against his repenting lips, fingers pressing the wet streak that’s formed over his trousers. “I made a mess, sorry, Kenny.”
Glasses foggy and cheeks flushed, he shakes his head. “Nothing to apologise for, my love. You were, and are, nothing short of perfect. Always. Now, come. Let’s eat. The kids must be starving.”
Bear hybrid!Nanami goes through hyperphagia during the autumnal months, when the weather begins to become colder. He eats almost double his usual, consuming more berries and salmon — your grocery budget goes through the roof trying to keep his hunger satiated. 
This does mean, however, that your husband stores more fat. But it isn’t an awful experience. Rather, it’s actually the sexiest thing ever. Seeing him grow rounder in his arms, his face, his stomach and his thighs is incredible. You notice the added weight when he lays on your chest at night, laying a possessive hand on your tummy. 
He almost crushes you when he does that. At first, he simply takes extra care around you, making sure he moves slowly and carefully, but as the winter approaches and he grows even bigger, sleeping on you is no longer an option and you must lie on his chest, the hairs there tickling your nose. 
You can’t keep your hands off Bear hybrid!Nanami in those months. Even as he’s sorting through papers in his office, you just can’t help but crawl under his desk and fish out his thick cock. It’s long, thicker at the base where those fuzzy blond hairs are than the curve. He’s even bigger as he’s bulking. There, in his base, is a little knot-like curve that makes your mouth water. 
“Feeling needy, darling?”
You hum, teasing your lips against his tip. “For you? Always.”
He lands a heavy paw on your head, guiding your head lower. Taking him in, in any holes, is never easy. You have to mentally prepare yourself by re-familiaring yourself with his scent, his texture, and his taste by licking from base to tip, circling the head and peering up at him as his breathing becomes heavy. Only once does he begin releasing pained groans do you stretch your lips to engulf him. 
“Sweetheart, go -ha- slowly,” he advices. “I’ll cum too fast if you’re rough with me.”
His thighs are so thick you palm them, eyes rolling back at the pudge there, still solid and firm from his strength, and the knowledge that he could crush you with them makes you so wet, you moan around his cock. 
The growls coming from his chest vibrate the wooden desk you’re under, heady air puffing from his mouth as he curls his lips back, big arms tensing whilst he grips the wood with a deathly force, knuckles white. You hear it creak above you. You suck harder. 
“Almost there, honey. Keep -ngh- going.”
When he spurts in your mouth, painting your throat with his seed, he thumbs at your bottom lip, smearing the wetness of both his cum and your drool all over your chin before he pulls it down to inspect your mouth. “Swallow it all, my love. That’s right. Such a good girl.”
During hibernation, the entire family is sluggish. The children sleep all day. Kento practically never leaves the bed. Though he’s eaten enough in the season before to only need to eat once in a while, the same can’t be said for you. No, you still need to eat three meals a day.
You know that. And your husband knows that, too. 
So, why does he refuse to let go of you in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings? 
Held by his brawny arms, one around your chest, groping your tit, and the other circling your neck, you literally cannot move. Especially not with the hefty thigh he’s thrown over both of your legs. The snow he senses outside urges his instincts to keep all sources of warmth with him, even if the hottest thing in your room is himself, with all the heat emanating from his huge body. 
“Ken, I’m hungry,” you whine. 
He huffs, no rebuttal escaping him. 
His glasses have been safely tucked away in a drawer, and he’s wrapped tightly in a bulky sweater, hair all mussed up. He looks even paler during the winter, the only colour on his skin being the flush across his cheeks. Kento is the epitome of comfor during hibernation — it’s his favourite time of the year. He gets paid leave and so do you, the government understanding the importance of hybrids having support systems during such a vulnerable time. 
With his cubs all safe and sound at home, just in the next room, and his wife by his side at every given moment, there’s nothing else he could possibly ask for. Except maybe for you to stop squirming to get away.
“I’m literally starving, Kento,” you grumble. 
Bear hybrid!Nanami relents at the very last second, pulling those heavy limbs back enough for you to slide out from under them. You rush to the bathroom for your much needed reprieve and then head straight to the kitchen. Your husband had kept you captive until it was past lunchtime. 
He is so ridiculously selfish during these winter months. 
Careful to make as little noise as possible, you make a quick breakfast. Waiting for the bread to pop up from the toaster, all golden brown and warm, you tap your foot against the floor. It’s an odd feeling to rarely cook in the winter season — all year round, there’s practically never enough food for your husband and your children. Now, you pretty much only cook for yourself. 
You may not have the bear instincts they do, but you are a mother. You have to constantly fight the urge to shake your babies awake and shove hearty stews and delicious pies down their throats. Whenever you sneak into their rooms, all you ever get are grumbles of complaint about how loud you’re being. And if you leave the bed too often to check up on them, making sure they’re still breathing,  your husband becomes adorably irritated and carries them over to your bedroom, everyone piling on top. 
“You left me waiting so long, sweetheart,” Kento grumbles into your neck, startling you.  
Somehow, he had managed to creep up behind, bare feet padding quietly until he reached the kitchen where he promptly rested his weight onto you. Almost toppling over by the sudden weight, you yelp. 
“Ken! Go back to bed.”
Skimming his nose against your neck, he hums, “Can’t sleep without my wife.”
He patiently waits with you, hugging you from behind as he practically dozes off on top of your head, steady breathing causing his chest to rise and fall, coaxing you back to sleepiness too. He reaches over, plating the toasts for you as soon as they emerge, wary they’re too hot for your sensitive human hands. 
Taking your last bite, your world turns topsy turvy when you’re thrown over his shoulder, a large hand palming your thigh all the way up to your ass. Upon reaching your bedroom, he climbs in with you still clinging to his torso. You lay on top of him. He doesn’t complain about the weight, rather he groans from the feeling of you, all of you, keeping him warm and grounded.
“If you were a bear, honey,” he mumbles sleepily, hand rubbing your back, “those toasts would be enough to keep you in bed with me for weeks. How lovely would that be?”
Playfully, you retort, “You should marry one, then.”
“There’s no one else for me but you. Human or hybrid, you’re perfect. Just perfect,” he muses. 
Grabbing your left hand, he rests it on his which lies on the pillow above his head. Your rings clink together as he clutches every part of you tightly, like you might disappear when he wakes up, like this marriage with you has been all one big dream. 
What a sweet slumber and a bitter waking it would be. 
“See you on the other side, Kenny,” you say absentmindedly. 
Kissing the top of your head, he affirms, “Always.”
Once winter passes, Bear hybrid!Nanami returns to work and your kids go back to school, catching up with their friends like they haven’t been asleep almost the entire time. 
The snow’s all gone and the frost in the air disappears, signalling a brand new start. Your cubs will grow bigger, whilst your husband shifts back to his normal size, still enormous and intimidating, but much more hardened. In the spring, that brings its own set of problems. 
“The cubs are at their friends’, sweetheart.” Kento hugs you from behind as you stir a pot in the kitchen. You already know where this is going. You’ve lived through enough springs with the man to know that the bulge he’s grinding against your ass isn’t a simple expression of his love for you. 
Sighing, you ask, “Isn’t two plenty, Ken?”
He growls, teeth scraping your neck as he squeezes every inch of flesh his paws can reach. “I’m a greedy man. I want more of you. I want one that has your eyes and your wit. And another with your hair and your humour.”
When he cups your pussy through your dress, there’s nothing you can say in argument before he places you atop the counter, hob off and food left to grow cold. He’s got something more delicious in mind. 
He grips your thighs, legs spread to accommodate his wide berth. Leaving a big bite on your skin, a red mark begins to grow and the growl vibrating in his chest tells you everything you need to know. Kento isn’t stopping until your stomach balloons with his cubs once more. 
“Smells so good, sweetheart.” He presses his nose against your clothed core, burying the tip on your clit. His mouth waters with the tantalising scent filling his senses. “Always smell so good. I can never focus when you’re around.”
Your panties are ripped apart in his claws, torn to shred but before you can even process the destruction, he’s already diving in, your wetness coating his beard. Kento laps up all the juice you produce, suckling that tight little bud, rolling it with his tongue to hear your moans. 
You pull at his hair, so thick and luscious, and jut your hips up. The pleasure quickly grows overwhelming and you’re squirming away, clawing to find escape from the mind-numbing euphoria. 
Bear hybrid!Nanami growls, throwing a heavy arm over your stomach and he gnaws on your thigh in warning. “Do not move. Do not run. I couldn’t bear it. Not right now, sweetheart. You will give me what I want and you will thank me, yes?”
Panting, you nod your head. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry, Kenny.”
Eyes narrowing, he licks up the bruise he’s planted on your thigh in apology before he dives right back in with greater vigour. He wriggles his tongue inside, his nose teasing your clit, and you cum, creaming right into his mouth. Your husband makes low noises of approval, grip on your body turning punishing.
Bones a mush, he spins you around, wrangling you into position. Kento doesn’t give you a second to even recollect yourself. Your back to his chest, he pulls down the neckline of your dress, cupping your tits with calloused paws. 
“These will fill up with milk for our cubs and they’ll feed our babies,” he reminds you, pinching your nipples and you can almost imagine the sensitivity you’ll develop. “You get aches here, don’t you, darling? It’ll be alright. Your husband will take care of you, hmm? He’ll suck out all the milk so you don’t clog up.”
In one hard thrust, he shoves his length inside you. You gasp, eyes wide and jaw dropping. You feel so full. His long and thick cock is pressing against all the sensitive spots in your pussy, kissing your cervix. Your juices coat him, leaving shiny dew drops on the blond hairs at his base. 
“Feel me here, my love?” He’s got a paw pressing hard on the imprint of his bulge. When he presses harder, you clench down, jolts of electricity tickling your spine. “Ngh, that’s right. That’s where our cubs will be. You’ll grow -god you’re so beautiful- round until you can’t see your toes anymore. Oh, and then you’ll need me to put your socks on and -so tight ha- tie your laces, right?”
“Yes, Ken!”
He’s pummelling deep inside of you, head rubbing against that spot that makes you cream even more. The force in which he’s thrusting is leaving you a shaking mess, having to cling onto the counter to steady yourself. 
“I’ll protect you -ha goodness- and our family. Always. N-no one will harm you. You’ll always be safe with me,” he chants and you’re not even sure he’s talking to you. Kento can only plunge his cock inside, that bulge at the base inching its way in with no regard for how your pussy’s having to stretch impossibly to fit all of him. 
You cling onto that one hand keeping your hips still. “Ken! I can’t. It’s too much!”
He bites your neck, digging into your skin. Those meaty arms wrap completely around you, and he’s lifting you up and dragging you down on his cock. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, limbs limp as he uses you like a glorified fleshlight. 
“Nonsense. You’ll take it all in. You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again. For your Kento, yes? For your beloved husband? For your Kenny?”
You scream as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami, snatching you under until you’re left panting for breath, vision blurring from the tears cascading down your cheeks. He licks one that trails down your jaw and the salty taste, coupled with the almost painful squeezing of your sloppy cunt, pushes him over the edge. 
Spurts of white paint your quivering walls, your clit throbbing as he shudders against you with a prolonged growl. 
“So good. Always so good for me.” He makes a satisfied noise, grinding his hips deeper inside to plug up your pussy, keeping all of his seed inside. “What would you like, honey?”
You already know what he means and you don’t hesitate to answer, slurring, “Another boy and girl. So that we’ll have even numbers.”
His laughter rumbles and he kisses your neck, lips sliding through the sheen of sweat. He’s still holding you up with ease. “That would be nice. If we only get one boy, we can try for a girl soon after, and vice versa. What do you say, my love?”
You’re almost asleep, thoroughly exhausted even as your pussy still spasms around his thick cock, sensitive from the warmth of his flesh and his seed. Mind elsewhere, you can only reply, “Whatever you want, Ken.”
“Don’t say things like that, sweetheart. Because you know if I had it my way, you’ll always be pregnant and our house would be filled with mini yous all the time.”
The image causes him to throb inside you, cock not softening but rather getting bigger somehow. And when he begins rocking his hips once more, you know he likes the idea a little too much. 
You go for rounds after rounds until you’re leaving a trail of cum as he carries you over to the bathroom, where he takes you again and again, eating up the overflowing mixture of your combined essence.
Bear hybrid!Nanami never needs to try hard to convince you for anything. All he needs to do is flash you that soft smile and flex those huge muscles and you’re creating a sloppy mess in your panties. And he knows when he’s charm has taken the effect he intended. His sense of smell is so powerful he can tell when you’re growing needy from even across the house, where he chases you and pins you to the ground.
The next hibernation is spent taking care of newborns. A boy and a girl. And oh, how proud is your husband to have given you exactly what you wanted. His heart couldn’t be any more full. Except for a couple months later when he’s pawing at your breasts again. 
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lizziesangel · 3 days ago
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heyyy, could you do a one shot of rafe x high maintenance!kook!reader, about her expensive skinncare routine and rafe is just so in love of how well she takes cares of herself but at the same time like "90 dollars of this shit????" and reader is just "yeah😁 it has collagen, you should try it"
absolutely love this!!
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the night had been perfect—rafe made sure of it. dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town, with white tablecloths and a wine list so long it came in a leather-bound book. he didn’t even blink at the check, sliding his card over with the confidence of someone who did this all the time. the drive home was just as good, you sitting in the passenger seat, admiring your new nails under the streetlights, the soft hum of the radio in the background.
“seriously, rafe, aren’t they gorgeous?” you asked, holding your hand up to catch the faint glow of the dashboard lights. “look at the shine. and the shape? absolutely perfect. they even feel sturdier this time, like they’re not going to chip in two weeks.”
he glanced over briefly, his lips tugging into a lazy smile. “yeah, they look good. but you’ve said that, like, twenty times already.”
“and i’ll say it twenty times more, you’re the one who paid for them,” you pointed out, inspecting them again. “you should be happy i’m obsessed with them.”
“oh, i’m happy,” he said, turning into the driveway. “just wondering if i’m gonna hear about them all week.”
“probably,” you teased, stepping out of the car.
the conversation didn’t stop there. even as you followed him upstairs, you were still gushing.
“seriously, though, rafe. i think this might be my favorite set ever. they’re just so clean and classy.”
“yeah, they’re nice,” he said, pulling his shirt off as he walked into the bedroom. “good thing you didn’t go with that neon pink idea you showed me.”
“it was bubblegum pink, and it was cute!” you argued, crossing your arms.
“sure, babe,” he said with a smirk, falling onto the bed. “bubblegum pink’s cute.”
rolling your eyes, you walked over to the mirror, sighing at your reflection. “ugh, i have to take my makeup off first.”
rafe propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. “can’t you just… skip it?”
you turned to him, horrified. “skip it? baby, do you know what that would do to my skin?”
“no, but i’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” he teased, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blanket up.
you ignored him, grabbing your skincare bag and heading to the bathroom. after what felt like forever, you finally emerged, your face clean of makeup, wearing your silk robe.
rafe was lying in bed, one arm behind his head, watching you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.
“you know what we should get?” you asked, your tone casual.
he raised an eyebrow. “what?”
“a vanity.”
rafe blinked at you. “a what?”
“a vanity,” you repeated, walking over to sit cross-legged on the bed.
“why would we need a vanity?”
“so i can do my makeup and skincare in the bedroom instead of going to the bathroom every time,” you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
rafe gestured vaguely toward the open bathroom door. “the bathroom’s literally right there.”
you rolled your eyes, scooting closer to him. “yeah, but i’d rather be in here with you.”
he groaned, but there was no missing the fondness in his voice when he said, “you’re unbelievable.”
“and you love me for it,” you said with a grin.
he chuckled softly, pulling you closer for a quick kiss before turning back to his phone. shaking your head with a smile, you stood and padded back to the bathroom, ready to start your skincare routine.
as you began massaging a cleanser onto your face, you heard footsteps behind you. glancing in the mirror, you saw rafe leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you.
“what are you doing?” you asked, surprised but pleased.
“figured i’d see what all the hype’s about,” he said, smirking.
you laughed, turning back to the sink. “all right, pay attention.”
he stayed quiet, watching as you worked.
“first step,” you began, holding up the bottle. “oil-based cleanser. this gets rid of all the makeup and sunscreen.”
“so that’s why your face looks all shiny now?”
“exactly,” you said, rinsing it off. “next step: water-based cleanser. it makes sure everything’s actually gone.”
“seems like overkill,” he muttered, but his eyes stayed on you as you lathered up the second cleanser.
“it’s not,” you insisted, rinsing and patting your face dry with a towel. “now, toner. it balances your skin’s pH and preps it for the rest of the products.”
“you’re making this up,” he said, shaking his head.
“i’m not,” you said with a laugh, grabbing a small bottle. “next is serum. this one’s hydrating—it has hyaluronic acid.”
“whatever that is,” he said, leaning in a little closer.
“it’s amazing,” you said, patting the serum into your skin. “then comes eye cream. dab it under your eyes to keep them hydrated.”
“you have young skin,” he pointed out. “why do you need all this anti-aging stuff?”
“prevention is key,” you said simply, dabbing the cream under your eyes. “next, lip mask. it keeps your lips soft overnight.”
“lip mask?”
“yes, rafe. just trust me.”
he chuckled, watching as you smoothed the mask over your lips. “what’s next?”
“retinol,” you said, holding up a small tube. “but i only use it once a month.”
“why bother, then?”
“because it’s good to start early!” you said, smoothing a tiny amount over your skin.
rafe stayed quiet for a moment, watching as you worked through your routine. his curiosity got the better of him again when you reached for a fancy-looking gold jar.
“how much was that one?” he asked casually.
you hesitated. “uh… ninety, i think?”
“ninety dollars?” his voice shot up an octave as he grabbed the jar to inspect it.
“yes, rafe,” you said, snatching it back. “it’s a luxury brand. it has collagen.”
he gestured at the counter, which was full of bottles and jars from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so how much is all of this combined?”
you shrugged, applying the last of your products. “a couple hundred, maybe?”
“holy shit,” rafe muttered, running a hand through his hair.
you grinned, turning to face him. “what? you like how soft my skin is, don’t you?”
rafe gestured at the counter, which was covered in products from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so… who pays for all this?”
“i do,” you said, capping the jar of moisturizer.
rafe stared at you, incredulous. “no, you’re lying.”
“i swear!”
“no,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “i’ll pay for it.”
“rafe, you can’t pay for everything,” you argued, rolling your eyes.
he shook his head. “i can, and i will. no way you’re spending this much on—” he gestured vaguely at the counter—“this… whole collection.”
you raised an eyebrow at him. “i budget for it.”
rafe stared at you for a moment, then leaned against the counter with a smirk. “okay, new plan. i’m paying for it from now on.”
“rafe, you can’t just—”
“i can, and i will,” he interrupted, his tone firm but playful.
“you’re not paying for everything,” you argued, narrowing your eyes at him.
he leaned in, his smirk softening into something gentler. “you’re right. i’m not paying for everything. just the stuff that makes you happy. and this”—he waved his hand at your collection of bottles and jars—“obviously does.”
you felt your cheeks heat up, but you rolled your eyes to cover it. “fine, but i’m not letting you pay for all of it. maybe just the retinol.”
“deal,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “but i’m serious. next time, just send me the bill.”
you laughed, resting your head against his chest. “you’re ridiculous.”
“yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “but you love me for it.”
“unfortunately,” you teased, earning a chuckle as he pulled you back toward the bedroom.
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MASTERLIST
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CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚。⋆
@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69
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vivimura · 2 days ago
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how riki sounds during sex
i think in the first couple times of doing it, he'd be a bit hesitant to make sounds unless he hears you make some first. but, i think he'd open up a bit more eventually and be more confident in making sounds.
i doubt he's the kind to explicitly dirty talk, but i think he would praise you and tell you how good you're making him feel. he'd probably say things like, "god, you feel so good.." or along the lines of "keep doing that.." every time you'd clench around him.
he likes cursing a lot, and might even mutter some in japanese when the sex gets mind blowingly good.
i don't think he's completely mute, but he wouldn't straight up moan or whine either. i think he'd make sounds like groaning, grunting and subtle gasps ever so often.
whenever he'd get you to squirt, he'd groan appreciatively and say, "fuck, that was so hot... think you can do that again f'me, pretty?"
i do think he'd speak up whenever he feels himself getting close, because he wants the both of you to finish together. he finds it intimate, but also the sight of both your mixed cums dripping down your pussy is just really hot to him. "fuck-, tell me you're close, baby.."
afterwards, i think he would try his best to express how good you'd just made him feel and of course, that he loves you! "that was so good.. i love you s'much, baby.." he's sweet like that, okay?
mlist comment and reblog!
(i got this as an ask in my anons and accidentally deleted it but here you go ecskhfbsejhfsje)
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demonicintegrity · 2 days ago
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“The golden age of America begins right now” my dude groceries are expensive and will not get cheaper overnight.
“We will be the envy of every nation” we’re not. And will not be.
Just. Eugh.
“A tide of change is sweeping over the country.” Sure is. That is correct observation.
“We now have a government that cannot manage a single issue from home” YOU MISMANAGED COVID?
YOU ARE BRING UP IMMIGRANTS NOW??
“They don’t have a home anymore. That’s interesting.” Those rich people have second and third homes and can always afford more. Shut the fuck up. If you care about people care about the people who cannot afford such things.
“I was saved by god to make America great again.” I cannot stress enough how much I dislike any god that could’ve sent this man to us.
“Meet every crisis with dignity, power and strength.” Remember when you sharpied on the path of a hurricane.
LIBERATION DAY??? FROM WHAT???
“Most consequential election…” yeah. Sure. Sure is.
Oh no not the historic executive orders— COMMON SENSE???
Declaring a national emergency at our southern border (and receiving standing ovation for it), beginning the process of deportations for “criminals” and sending troops to our border. Which. Surely won’t escalate violence at all.
I’m not familiar with this illegal aliens act from the 1700s but I fear I’m about to be very aware about it. I cannot imagine this is anything good.
DRILL BABY DRILL??? THATS GONNA SOLVE THE NATIONAL ENERGY EMERGENCY?? YOURE SHITTING ME.
“We will be a rich nation again, and it will be—
ENDING THE GREEN NEW DEAL, USING THE OIL UNDER OUR FEET WHILE CALIFORNIA BURNS. Fucking hell.
“We will tariff and tax foreign countries to enrich our citizens.” Somehow. I don’t believe that will enrich us.
Establishing the ERS and DOGE. Ough.
And he’s gonna bring back free speech while criticizing Seth Meyers for poking at him….. and he’s gonna stop political persecution. Yeah sure. Sure. Sure sure sure.
SOCIALLY ENGINEER RACE AND GENDER INTO PUBLIC AND PRIVATE PLACES?? THAT WAS HAPPENINGG.
It’s official policy. Only Male and Female. It’s really going to be official policy. Oh my fucking god. From a party that denies climate change. Oh my fucking god. I’m nonbinary and that’s about to be a fucking challenge.
“The wars we never get into.” Didn’t we worry about ww3 last time?
“That’s what I wanna be, a peacemaker and unifier.” YOURE NOT. YOU ARE NOT.
WHY ARE YOU CHANGING THE GULF OF MEXICO??
“foolishly given to the country of Panama” ITS ON THEIR LAND AND THEY CONTROL IT?? HELLO??? Yet China is operating the Panama Canal???
“As we liberate our nation” from WHAT. What are you liberating us from!?
“Pursue our manifest destiny” didnt that genocide natives— PLANT A FLAG ON MARS?
Yeah no this entire speech has been. A little concerning to say the least. And it just keeps going and going.
“Full of compassion, courage, and exceptionalism.” You are the least compassionate person here. Please.
I just. Don’t feel great after that. Hm.
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harryslittlefreakk · 2 days ago
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off limits
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summary: planning your brother’s birthday turns into crossing a line with his best friend. everyone say thank you @bethiegurl19 for the request!!!
wordcount: 4.5k
warnings: angst, smut (foreplay, protected sex)
a/n: back with a bang baby!!!!!
masterlist 😋🌷🫧🍒 taglist
“You’re not bringing him.”
“You can’t dictate that.”
“Yes I can.”
“No, Harry, you can’t. It’s my house, my brother, and my-.” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what you could actually call Matt. Harry knew as well as you did that he wasn’t your boyfriend, he was the man who bothered with you when his other options were busy.
“Jake doesn’t even like him,” Harry muttered, his jaw flexing as he spoke.
“Neither of you will ever like who I date while you still see me as a kid,” you shot back, standing up too fast, feeling the wine rush to your head as you turned your back on Harry. It was the fourth night you’ve gotten together to try and plan your brother‘s birthday, the fourth night Harry had fought you about Matt.
“It’s not about that. He’s an arse and everyone sees it except you.”
You rested your elbows on the counter, rubbing at your temples. “It’s not your place to see it. But fine. I won’t invite him,” you sighed, hating that you were giving in to Harry.
“Good,” Harry all but growled, downing the rest of his wine in one sip.
“And I don’t still see you as a kid,” he added, walking over to you, his hand brushing your side as he reached for a new bottle of wine. His touch was light, barely even there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, heat blossoming against your skin. You could feel his presence next to you, close enough that the scent of his cologne mixed with the dry oaky smell of the wine on his breath. He hesitated for the briefest second, his hand lingering near your side. But even if he had noticed the way you’d gone totally rigid, he didn’t say anything.
You moved away slightly, trying to focus on the wine splashing into the glasses in front of you, the walls of the glass stained pink from Harry’s sloppy pouring, ignoring the way your skin buzzed in the aftermath of his touch. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, your mood worse.
“You’re not even pouring it right,” you muttered, snapping at Harry before you could stop yourself.
His head turned, and you could feel his eyes on you as he straightened, the bottle still in his hand.
“Pouring it right?”, he laughed, that fucking smirk tugging at his lips. It boiled your blood.
You turned to lean your hip against the counter, grabbing the bottle from his grip.
Harry let out another low, frustrated laugh, raking a hand through his long curls as he turned towards you fully.
“Relax,” he said finally, pulling the bottle back slamming it back down on the counter. “You’ve been on my case all week. The decorations, the music – you fought me on every single thing. What, because I don’t like your little boyfriend?”
You froze as Harry stepped closer, his tense frame towering over you. His green eyes were locked on yours, sharp and darkened in his frustration.
“Tell me then. What the fuck are you even doing with a guy like Matt?” His voice was low and biting, but not teasing in the way you’d grown to expect.
Your jaw clenched, your throat dry as your hands reached behind you to grip onto the edge of the counter. “You don’t know him,” was all you managed to say.
“Yes I do, y/n. I went to school with him. Jake went to school with him. And I’ve seen enough of him to know he hasn’t changed at all,” Harry shot back, his voice rising.
“It’s none of your business! I’m old enough to make my own mistakes. I don’t need either of you to protect me anymore,” you shouted, glaring at Harry.
“You never needed our protection. But look at you! You’re trying to pick a fight because I don’t think your hook up should be at Jake’s party. Is he even worth it?”
Your stomach twisted at Harry’s words, heat flooding your cheeks. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if despite all of Matt’s other flaws, of which there were many, he was a good enough fuck for you to keep him around.
“It’s worth it just to piss you off,” you mumbled.
Harry ran a hand over his face, looking straight through you as he laughed. “You’ve wasted a year fucking him because it pisses me off?”
“I’m not discussing that with you.”
“Why not? Because you don’t want to admit that’s the entire reason you carried on seeing him? Or because you don’t want to admit that he isn’t even a good fuck?”
You opened your mouth to spit something back at Harry, but nothing came out. Harry clearly knew you better than you thought, and no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t.
Your silence didn’t go unnoticed. That same irritating look of amusement was still on Harry’s face as he looked down at you.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes flickering to your lips where they lingered for just a second before snapping back to your eyes.
You hated him in that moment. For being right, for knowing you so well, for backing you into a corner you couldn’t see a way out of. But more than anything you hated how your body was reacting to him, the way his closeness made your heart race.
You wanted to punch him, to shove him out of your house and never see him again. But when your hand reached out towards Harry, it betrayed you, gripping at his t-shirt and pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.
It was all the confirmation he needed. His lips were on yours, rough and urgent, like he’d been holding himself back for weeks and finally couldn’t anymore. For a split second, you froze, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. But then his hands were on your waist, pulling you even closer.
You kissed him back without thinking, your hands clutching at the cotton of his t-shirt as if you needed to hold on to something to keep from falling. His body pressed against yours, his warmth searing into you, that big wall of muscle pushing against your front.
Harry groaned against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he backed you up against the counter. The edge of it pressed into your lower back, but you didn’t care. All you could care about was him - the way his lips moved against yours, the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way he tasted like wine and heat and something unmistakably Harry.
He stepped back, running a hand through his curls, his breathing uneven as his eyes darted between your face and the floor. His lips were red and swollen, and you couldn’t look at him without feeling like the world had tilted sideways. He stared at you, his eyes dark and wild, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes were still dark and locked onto yours. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough. “Didn’t seem like you minded.”
“I should go,” he said quietly after a minute, his voice hoarse and full of something you couldn’t quite place.
Your chest tightened, but you nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself in a futile attempt to fill the sudden ache his words created. “Yeah,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. “You should.”
For a moment, he hesitated, like he was waiting for you to stop him. But you didn’t. You just stood there, rooted in place as he turned toward the door. He didn’t look back as he left, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt deafening.
You let out a breath, leaning back against the counter as you tried to gather your thoughts. Your lips still tingled from his kiss, your skin still warm where his hands had held you, and you hated how empty the room felt without him. You hated that you even wanted him to stay and kiss you again.
The thought hit you like a wave, but you shook it off, forcing yourself to push away the longing that crept into your chest. He was gone, and it was already messy. It didn’t need to go deeper.
But when the knock at the door came, your heart leapt into your throat, and before you could even process what you were doing, you were pulling it open.
Harry stood there, his hand braced on the doorframe, his eyes dark as they met yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like he was fighting an internal battle he’d already lost.
“I couldn’t go,” he said finally, his voice rough.
You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because he was stepping inside, kicking the door shut behind him as his hands found your waist. He pulled you to him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding yours with a desperate, hungry urgency that left you breathless.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered against your lips, his voice thick with frustration as his hands gripped your thighs. “You know that?”
“You’re the one who came back,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you again, deeper this time.
“Yeah, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck, sending a shiver racing through you. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how I’m right. Matt isn’t enough for you, is he?”
Your breath hitched, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp. “Don’t—”
You hated how easily he got under your skin, how his words hit far too close to the truth. “You’re so full of yourself,” you snapped, though your voice lacked conviction, trembling under the weight of his presence.
Harry smirked, his hands tightening on your hips as he carried you toward your bedroom, not breaking eye contact. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice dripping with confidence. “But I’m not wrong, am I?”
You didn’t answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But the heat in your cheeks and the way you clung to him told him everything he needed to know.
By the time he reached your bedroom, your resolve was gone, replaced by a desperate ache in your core that only he could seem to satisfy. He laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as his lips brushed against your ear.
“Let me show you how it’s supposed to feel,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady.
And as his lips found yours again, his green eyes locked onto yours for just a split second, looking at you in a way that showed you both permission and forgiveness.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Harry whispered, his words muffled against your mouth, the scent of the wine warm against your skin.
“I can handle it,” you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as him.
“Say you’ll tell me,” he repeated, firm and commanding.
“I’ll tell you,” you echoed, heat spreading through your body as he planted his hands either side of your head, caging you in.
The silver rings on his fingers caught the lone beam of moonlight streaming through the curtains, the chilled metal brushing against your skin as he moved closer still. Your gaze follow the lines of his tattoos, the dark ink curling up his forearm, disappearing under the pushed-up sleeve of his t-shirt.
Harry‘s mouth moved from yours to the curve of your neck, his lips brushing over your wild pulse with a deliberate slowness. His teeth grazed your skin, a contrast to the soft flex of his tongue as he kissed his way down, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper that slipped past your lips.
“Think you finally ran out of shit to say,“ he teased, his hand shifting to wrap your leg around his hip, his touch firm and possessive as he pressed himself against you.
The hardness of him against your inner thigh made your head spin, the friction of his jeans against the thin cotton of your leggings burning into you. You rolled your lower lip into your mouth, trying to suppress the moan threatening to escape as his hips rolled against yours, his cock pushing against you.
“These jeans,“ you whispered, your voice breathy as your hand slid between your bodies, tugging at their skin-tight waistband. “I hate them.”
“D’you really?” Harry asked, his voice laced with that same teasing amusement as he moved back off the bed. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure they’re driving you crazy right now.“
You glared up at him, your lips pulled into a reluctant smirk, waiting on your brain to form some sort of comeback. Instead, you pushed up onto your knees, grabbing at Harry‘s t-shirt until his lips crashed back onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and heat and frustration.
Harry groaned into your mouth, the sound low and guttural as it echoed through you, his hands roaming over your body, sliding beneath your t-shirt. His touch left trails of fire and goosebumps in its wake, your back arching into him, your fingers curling into his hair.
“D’you want me to stop?“ he murmured against your lips.
“No,“ you breathed, your lips brushing against his before his mouth captured yours again. More insistent now, his fingers splayed across the curve of your waist. Your world was spinning with every touch, your every thought consumed by him – his taste, his scent, the way his lean frame press against yours like even an inch of empty space between you would be too much.
He let you part for just a second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes somehow darkening even further as they roamed the skin that had, until then, been off limits to him. His breath hitched, his fingers skimming along the soft lace of your bra. He took his time, like he wanted to memorise every inch of you.
“Even better than I imagined,” he murmured, his voice gravelly yet almost silent, as if he wasn’t saying that to you, but to himself.
Your eyebrows quirked in questioning as his eyes snapped back to yours, something dangerous in the depths of darkened greens. “More than I should’ve,” he confessed, leaning down to press his lips to the sharp angle of your collarbone. “Much more.“
His confession sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your fingers finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as his mouth continued down your body.
When his fingers slipped into the waistband of your leggings, he paused, pushing you softly back down onto the bed, his eyes boring into you. “I need to hear you say you want this,“ he said, pushing his free hand through his curls.
“I want this,” you breathed without hesitation. “I want you.”
That was the final confirmation he needed, his hands never leaving your skin as he stripped away the barriers between you, first the remainder of your clothes, and then his.
When he finally pulled his shirt off, you let your eyes wander over his body, drinking in the sharp lines of his torso, the way his tattoos rose and fell with his breathing. You kept your gaze on his body as he kicked off those damn jeans and his underwear, Letting yourself appreciate the soft smack of his cock against his flesh as he freed it, something your teenage self was sure to thank you for.
You felt your eyes wide and slightly as you registered his size, your breath catching in your throat.
But Harry only smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, his hand sliding under you to cut the back of your neck as his body settled over yours. His weight, his heat, the feel of his skin against yours – it was overwhelming.
“I told you he wasn’t enough for you.”
You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him once again that he was arrogant, but his hand slid between your thighs, and the words died on your tongue.
You let out a strangled gasp of his name, your head falling back into the pillows as the part of his thumb worked at your clit.
“Say it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Say I’m better for you than he is.”
You wanted to fight him, to deny him and take him down a notch, but all you could do was whimper against his skin, your body arching into his touch as heat pooled in your core.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his lips trailing across all the skin they could reach, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
The roughness of his hands contrasted with the gentle touch of his movements, intoxicating and addictive as his hips ground against yours.
“You’re already so worked up for me,” he muttered, his voice almost a growl as he pushed two fingers into you. “All this time, y’just needed to be fucked right.”
“Shut up,” you managed to bite back, losing the edge to your voice as his fingers flexed against your sweet spot.
Harry chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh that sent shivers down your spine. “That’s why you get so riled up. Because every time I fight you about Matt, you’re thinking about this.”
You tried to glare at him, but the way his fingers fucked into you made it impossible to do anything but push your hips against his touch, your cheek turning to him as his lips grazed your ear.
“What do you think about, hmm? Me touching you like this?” he continued, taking your silence as confirmation.
“Harry,” you groaned, gathering a fistful of his hair as his hand stilled, his thumb pressed to your nerves.
“C’mon, kitten. Tell me,” he pressed, a commanding edge to his words that only deepened the ache in your core.
“What you’d feel like, how you’d sound. How you’d fuck m-“
You didn’t get to finish, Harry’s lips were on yours again, swallowing the rest of your words in a kiss so deep and consuming that it felt like he was pulling the life from your body. He pushed a third finger into you, his rings stone-cold against your folds, the silence punctured by breathy gasps and your wetness pushing in and out of you with his every movement.
Your breathing quickened, each stroke of Harry’s fingers building the pressure in your core. He worked at you expertly, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had your skin overheating, your toes starting to curl, your hips bucking into his palm.
His name spilled from your lips like a mantra as your body tensed. Harry kept his eyes locked on you, his brows furrowed as he watched you unravel beneath him.
“Let go, love,” he murmured, his voice thick and coaxing, his fingers curling just right to hit the sweet spot that had you seeing stars.
He didn’t need to tell you twice. The tension that had built inside you snapped, a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing over you with such power that you couldn’t hold back from crying out. Your muscles tightened around his fingers as hot, pulsing waves of pleasure worked their way over your skin, leaving sharp tingles in their wake.
Harry didn’t let up, drawing out your high with slow, deliberate movements, his thumb back to pressing firmly at your clit as his fingers worked you through it.
When you finally went limp beneath him, your chest heaving, he slowly withdrew his hand, the sudden lack of touch drawing out a needy whine from your throat.
You watched through blurry eyes as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste you. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, an appreciative groan echoing from his throat.
You let out a shaky breath, your head spinning, your world now entirely tilted on its axis. But Harry didn’t give you much time to recover. He leaned back down, his lips brushing yours, letting you taste your sweetness on his tongue as his hand cupped your cheek.
“Not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice muffled against your lips.
“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your mouth quirking into a smile, heart racing as he fished through his pockets for a condom.
“I’ve been patient with you,” he said, tearing the foil wrapper with his teeth as he knelt between your legs. “Not anymore.”
You swallowed hard as he rolled the condom over his cock, his length hard and heavy in his hand.
“I can handle you,” you retorted, heat flooding through you.
Harry let out a low chuckle, his nose brushing against yours as he lined himself up, his tip just barely pressing against your entrance. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
He pushed into you slowly, his hips rolling forward inch by inch. The stretch had you gasping, your hands flying to his shoulders. Harry groaned, the sound raw and guttural, his forehead falling to yours as he stilled, letting you adjust to him.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice strained. “Feel so good, princess.”
Your fingernails dug into his skin as your body arched into his, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness of him. “Move,” you whimpered, desperate for him to do something to help ease the ache building inside you.
Harry obeyed, his hips rolling back before snapping forward again, and again, the force of his thrusts sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He moved deliberately, his pace slow and calculated, his free hand grabbing needily at the flesh of your hip.
“Look at you,” he groaned, full of awe as he watched the way your body responded to him. “Taking me so well. You were made for this.”
Your head rolled back on the pillow, your nails raking down Harry’s back as he drove into you, his pace unrelenting. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and Harry’s gravelly groans as he buried himself in you over and over again.
Every thrust brought you closer to the brink, the coil in your stomach tightening with every snap of his hips. Harry seemed to sense it, his hand sliding underneath his body, finding your clit and circling the nerves with practiced precision.
“You gonna come for me?” he asked, his teeth grazing the skin at your jaw. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?”
Your entire body trembled as Harry’s words broke through the fog in your mind, his deep, commanding tone sending shockwaves through you. His fingers on your clit matched the rhythm of his thrusts, each movement calculated to push you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Please,” you whimpered, your hands clutching desperately at his curls.
“Wanna feel how good I make you feel,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your ear.
Your back arched off the bed as his hips slammed into yours, the angle perfect, his cock burying itself deep inside you. You howled out his name, your walls clenching and pulsing around him.
Harry groaned deeply, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he fought to maintain control.
“That’s it,” he growled. “That’s my good girl.”
He didn’t stop, his hips continuing to drive into you, his fingers on your clit prolonging your orgasm until your body shuddered from the overstimulation. You writhed and whimpered, trying to ground yourself, but Harry wasn’t done with you yet.
“You’ve got another one in you,��� he whispered against your ear, his voice rough and full of intent.
“I can’t,” you whined, completely sure that you couldn’t handle more, that another orgasm might break you, but the fire in his gaze told you it wasn’t a question.
He shifted, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, your body already sensitive, but the way his cock dragged against your sweet spot had you spiraling all over again.
His fingers left your clit only to grab your other thigh, pulling you flush against him, his pace growing rougher, more desperate. “You feel that?” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Feel how good you’re taking me? Fuck, you’re perfect.”
You could barely think, your mind foggy with pleasure as the pressure built inside you again, faster and harder this time. Harry’s lips found yours, swallowing your moans, his movements growing erratic as he chased his own release.
“Come with me,” he urged, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice barely more than a breath. “Come with me, kitten. Let me feel you.”
And then you were falling again, your body clenching around him as another orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Harry followed just a second later, his groan low and guttural as he buried himself deep, his body trembling as he spilled into you.
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, your bodies tangled together as you both came down from the high. Harry’s weight pressed against you, grounding you, his lips ghosting over your temple in a surprisingly tender gesture.
“You okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer now, full of concern as he brushed your damp hair away from your face.
You nodded, still catching your breath, your lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. “More than okay.”
Harry chuckled, the sound warm and comforting as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your cheek. “Still think I’m full of myself?”
You shook your head, “no. Just thinking about me being full of you,” you grinned, biting down on your lip.
He cupped the back of your head, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him, holding you flush to his body. “I think your brother might kill me,” he whispered, a nervous edge to his usually steady voice.
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buck-star · 1 day ago
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Favorite toy
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18+! MINORS DNI! Smut, fingering, squirting, praises, Bucky being hot.
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
IMAGINE being spread out for Bucky to do whatever he pleases. Your legs dangle over his while he leans relaxed with his back against the couch and holds your back tightly against his firm, t-shirt-covered chest.
While Bucky is fully clothed in sweatpants and a shirt, you’re only wearing one of his big hoodies that fits you like a dress.
So, while Bucky enjoys the movie playing on the television, his fingers play with your wet pussy. Tracing up and down your folds, pinching your clit every now and then. His eyes — of course — not really focused on the television but on you, even though he acts all innocent and sweet, like he would love to watch the movie.
When you squirm, he lets go of you, running his hands over your thighs. “Baby doll, we wanna watch that movie, don’t we? Ya squirming so much, can you even focus on it then?”
Idiot! When you settle back into him, he continues his little game until about halfway through the movie. His cock is painfully pressing against his pants and your back, but he’s not satisfied enough to stop playing with you just yet.
A yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly pushes two of his thick fingers into your entrance. He’s holding your legs spread with his, grinning into your neck. His lips trail along your soft skin, leaving soft kisses and bites all over it.
His mouth feels so sweet and tender while his fingers torment your pussy in the best way possible. The filthy, squelching noise mixed with your whimpers and moans fills the room.
“Good girl, such a good girl. Letting me play with you like a good you is supposed to,” he mumbles, his voice low. Bucky curls his fingers deep inside your cunt, groaning when you grab his thighs tightly to ground yourself. “That’s it… there it is. Your sweet spot, huh?”
Your pussy is clenching hard around his fingers, sucking his fingers back in whenever he pulls them out slightly. It earns you a lot of praise from that filthy mouth of your boyfriend.
“Look at my pussy, being so eager. Sucking my fingers in like your filthy mouth does with my cock all the time,” he says with a hoarse voice, his eyes dark and his lips on your neck no longer soft. He’s tugging with his teeth at your skin, leaving dark hickeys on your skin to remind you who you belong to. “Shouldn’t we reward you for being such a sweet and eager girl, shall we?”
Your nod is barely visible when you throw your head back against his shoulder. His fingers kept the steady rhythm. Suddenly you feel the coolness of his metal fingers on your clit, adding more and more pressure before he circles your sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your legs shaking, your back arching when the coil in your stomach tightens until it finally snaps. You're squirting all over his hand — just like he had planned when starting to thrust his digits against your sweet spot.
Bucky uses his metal hand to slap your pussy, causing the liquid to squirt in every direction. Your moans turn into cries when he keeps rubbing your overstimulated pussy.
“Good girl, such a good girl. Look at the mess you just made. Your cum is everywhere, baby doll. But I’m sure you can give me one more,” he praises, plunging another finger into you. You whine, shaking your head, but Bucky knows better. He knows you can give him one more. “Love seeing you squirt for me; can’t even decide if I want to look at your pussy or your face, both so mesmerizing, baby doll.”
So, between more prizes and encouragement to come for him to do exactly that. His name leaves your lips over and over again until he needs to feel you around his thick, leaking cock.
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Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @kandis-mom @peachy-satan00 @armystay89 @queen-honeybee-stories @alexxavicry [add yourself]
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traveler-at-heart · 2 days ago
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Hot and Cold
Summary: Natasha's playing with fire when a new resident joins the Compound.
A/N: Queen of Angst @esposadejoyhuerta asked for the fluffiest, sweetest, tooth rotting story ever and I was happy to deliver, even after they changed their request to inclue jealousy BECAUSE no one can stop me. Love ya, baby!
Another day, another mission. Since last week’s mess, it seems like Fury’s been finding ways to torture the team.
Yes, at the end they were able to retrieve the drive with the data of over twenty enhanced individuals. But so did HYDRA. And now the Avengers are on a race against time to locate them before the Russians do.
Natasha walks to Fury’s office, not excited at the prospect of risking her life to recruit people who didn’t really want to be found.
“Yes?” she says as soon as Fury turns around. He hands over a very heavy binder. “Is this their criminal record?”
Great, a weirdo with a troubled past. Natasha might not make it out alive.
“No, that’s their academic stuff. She’s a scientist. Crazy smart” Fury explains. “Have you heard of Bio-Thermokinesis?”
“No, not really”
“The ability to manipulate the body temperature of oneself and/or others” he recites, having learned the concept just now.
“That doesn’t sound so bad” Natasha says, closing the folder. It’s certainly better than the last few people she had to chase down.
“Yeah, until she induces a heat stroke or hypothermia” Fury scoffs. “We’ve been failing at recruiting these people. It would be nice to have a win. Plus, she could work in the lab with Banner and Stark”
“I don’t think Nerd Club is worth one’s freedom” Natasha mutters, skimming through the file.
“Well, either way, this mission doesn’t requires strenght. It requires charm. You up for it or should I send Hill?”
As Natasha gets to the picture of the target, she looks up.
“I’ll handle it”
As usual, you’re carrying more than you can possibly handle. Books, your laptop, a sandwich from the cafeteria, and correspondence from the main office.
By the time you manage to open the door to your office, half of the things in your arms are dangerously close to scattering across the hardwood floor.
“Oh, shit” you mutter when your keys drop.
“Need a hand?” a voice says and you jump back, the rest of your stuff flying across the room. 
“Uh… can I help you?” you say, because the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is perched up on your desk, legs crossed and a playful smirk across her striking features.
“Are you Doctor Y/L/N?”
“Yes. How did you…? I’m pretty sure the door was locked” 
Is she a thief? You have absolutely nothing of value, at least not for a conventional burglar. You run every possibility in your mind and then you land on your second least favorite one.
Natasha notices the room getting warmer, probably because of how flustered you got. The file seems accurate regarding your power.
“AC broke down?” she asks innocently, undoing the top button of her shirt.
“Uh… I… I’ll open the window” you say, pushing it and leaning against the window pain. You consider jumping down to escape, but it’s a considerable height. You take a breath, deciding to face the matter head on. “So, which agency sent you?”
“Ever heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
“Yes, that was my first guess” you admit with a sad smile. “What can I do for you, Agent…?”
“Call me Natasha” she says, hopping off the desk. “I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news… and a generous offer”
“Mmm” you nod, fixing your glasses. 
“A tactical team was sent to stop the purchase of confidential information for 30 enhanced individuals. We were able to obtain it… and so did HYDRA”
“Listen” you raise your hand, taking off your glasses and pinching the bridge of your nose. “I get it. HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. know about me. The thing is, my power isn’t something you can leverage in a fight. I doubt they’ll be very interested in me”
“I think you’re wrong. And it’s not just your ability. Your expertise in science and your genetic makeup can be used to experiment”
“So, is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to do with me?” you sigh, looking out the window. You’re enjoying the view, vaguely aware that life as you know it is over.
“We want to offer you shelter at the Avengers Compound. 24 hour security, top facilities and technology. You can continue your research” Natasha says, trying to make it sound like a great deal.
It brings her back to that time Fury told her it was either work for the US government or end up in the Raft.
Your offer is slightly better, but a golden prison is still a prison.
“Are there any questions I can answer before you make a decision?” she offers with a kinder tone.
“Yeah. Do I even have a choice?”
Academic life is all you’ve ever known. Grants were the perfect way to do your research without having to look for a benefactor and expose yourself. You could learn things about your DNA, your abilities, while doing other stuff without anyone noticing.
Now, you wake up and there’s nothing that drives you. You live with people who have exceptional skills, physical prowess, and military training. Their world is avenging, your world is scientific papers and books.
Sure, their lab is nice, but most of the times you end up leaving early, completely unmotivated and feeling empty. 
Natasha watches from afar, and although this isn’t her doing, she feels responsible. She tries to include you in activities she understands, like training, but you’re very obviously not the athletic kind.
Banner is, as usual, isolating himself and Tony speaks nerd, but is barely around unless a mission requires his presence. 
It isn’t until one day that Peter shows up to the Compound that Natasha gets an idea.
“Hi, Miss Romanoff. Is Mister Stark around?” he asks in that shy tone he always uses when he’s around Natasha.
“Nope, not to my knowledge. Do you need anything?” 
“FRIDAY told me to meet him here. He must have forgotten. I guess I better get back to my Biochem project”
Wait a minute.
He’s a nerd.
“Stay” she says, looking him up and down. Peter reminds her of a puppy when he stops completely, as if he learned a new command. “Wait for Tony at the lab. I’ll try to find him”
“You’re sure? I’m not allowed inside by myself” he hesitates, following Natasha.
“Yeah, it’s fine” she types in the access code, and of course, there you are, spinning in your chair.
As soon as you hear the door opening, you stop your movements, almost falling off.
Natasha finds your blush adorable.
“Hey, Y/N. This is Peter. He’ll be around waiting for Tony”
“Oh, hey. Ok, I was just leaving. I’m kinda stuck either way”
“Ordinary Differential Equations?” Peter says as soon as he gets his eyes on your board.
“Yes. Very impressive” you nod. “This is focused on genetic network. I’m trying to determine inborn errors of metabolism”
“Oh, you know? There’s a brilliant Doctor who’s working on that, maybe her paper would be great for you. She’s Y/N Y/L/N”
“Yeah, that’s me” you say, tapping your chin and examining the board. “What is your ability? If you have any? Maybe I can use a different set of data”
“Yes! I would love to, what do you need from me?” Peter says, a little starstruck at finding out you’re one of the most prestigious researchers in the world. 
“For now, a blood sample” you wink at him, adjusting your glasses.
Natasha sits in the back of the lab as you and Peter work together, and you explain every concept to him. This is the first time since you arrived that you don’t look so miserable.
The Russian takes it as a small win when you join her in the common area for dinner.
--
Since Peter found out about your abilities and your permanent stay at the Compound, you’ve been advising him on his project and college applications. Which is a really nice distraction, but it also makes you miss your own college days.
So, even if you’re in a better mood, it’s still hard to socialize with the team.
One day, you enter the lab to find Rogers, Wilson and Barnes looking at a screen, while Natasha types.
“Whoever encrypted this is slightly smarter than me. Only slightly” 
They look away as you drag a chair to focus on your own stuff, a cup of coffee in your hand and a cookie in your mouth.
“Hi…” you wave at them, feeling intimidated as usual.
“Hey, weather girl” Sam winks at you. 
Natasha rolls her eyes and elbows him.
“Ignore him, Y/N”
You can tell she’s getting frustrated, so you inch closer, looking at the code over her shoulder. Placing your hand on her elbow, you silently ask for permission to take over.
The redhead eyes you curiously, but stops typing and moves the keyboard your way. It takes you twenty seconds to hack into the files.
“How…?”
“I used to hack into databases to make sure my name wasn’t on any watchlist” you explain casually. Natasha laughs at that. “Anyway, there you go”
“Thanks, Y/N. You’re my hero” Natasha says, smiling up at you. Her tone makes you blush and you nod, going back to your desk.
“Nice work. We could use your help if you’re free some other time” Steve says as they leave the lab.
“Of course, Capitan” 
An intruder changes your mind about training. The threat is handled swiftly and you don’t even have time to hide before F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms the suspect has been taken into custody
But you don’t even know how to begin to defend yourself, so you come back to Natasha, asking if her offer still stands.
Needless to say, the spy is more than happy to train you. Not just because it means you’re comfortable asking for things, but because Natasha can teach you something that will help you protect yourself.
You start with two sessions per week, which later turns to four, until you’re comfortable with training almost daily.
The rest of the team joins from time to time, giving you advice and helping you when Natasha’s away on missions.
After a few weeks, Natasha notices how your resistance is better and you’re building some muscle.
Only as a professional observation. It’s not like she finds you attractive, with that nerdy charm and toned arms.
One day, as you’re leaving the gym, she checks her bag, cursing when she notices she forgot a change of clothes. 
“Wanna borrow one of my hoodies?” you offer, handing over your NYU sweatshirt.
“You sure?” Natasha hesitates.
“Yeah, I got tons of these. From all the places I’ve done work or research” 
“I’ll give it back” she promises, taking it.
That turns out to be a lie.
A few days later, when you’re folding your laundry, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests that you join Tony and Banner in the lab. Leaving the basket in the living room, you think nothing of it, nor do you notice that a couple of your sweatshirts are gone.
It all comes to light a week later, when Natasha comes back from a grueling mission. The only thing that will make her feel better is staying in her room while wearing your UCLA hoodie.
She totally forgets about her attire when she answers the door.
“Huh, so that’s where it was” you tilt your head, smiling.
“I…”
“I’m watching a movie, care to join me? It’s one of your favorites” 
“Ok” she nods, surprised that you’re not mad about the stolen sweatshirt. 
Natasha enters your room, appreciating the combination of books, notes and the board with equations. After you apologize for the mess, you offer a place to sit in your bed.
“It looks good on you” you compliment the redhead. Natasha smiles, trying to be nonchalant about it.
“Thank you” 
It becomes a habit, to steal your hoodies.
“Objectively speaking, you don’t actually need them as you can regulate your temperature” Natasha comments one day, digging through your closet. To her shock, she finds a sweatshirt with a sorority logo on it.
“Not mine. A girl I hooked up with in college” you explain.
Natasha rolls her eyes, throwing the garment as far away as possible while pulling a face. You laugh at her reaction.
“Don’t be jealous, Natty. You’re my favorite” you promise, unaware of the effect your words had on her.
“And yet you never let me wear the Harvard one”
“That was my first” you shrug your shoulders.
“First college or first hook up?” Natasha taunts and you laugh.
“A nerd never kisses and tell. Actually, a nerd rarely kisses anyone to being with” you try to joke, pulling out the Harvard sweatshirt from your closet to put it on.
Natasha eyes it, and you catch her intentions a little too late. She inches forward and you stretch your arm back, trying to place the hoodie out of reach.
“Nu-uh” you shake your head, laughing as she keeps trying to steal it. “Natasha, there are like ten other hoodies you  could take!” 
“I want this one!” she insists, jumping. Her body crashes against yours, and you both stumble, falling in your bed. Limbs are tangled and her laugh tickles your ear as she struggles to lift herself up. After a moment, Natasha smiles, looking at your lips. “Gotcha”
You don’t even know what to say, her intense stare making you feel warm -both literally and figuratively - and your heart beats faster when it seems like she’ll lean forward and kiss you.
“Agent Romanoff, there’s an urgent call for you” FRIDAY interrupts the moment. 
Natasha sighs, standing up and looking at you. 
“Catch you later?”
“Yeah” you nod, trying to hide your disappointment.
Natasha was gone for a week, and returned with a very bad injury. You heard the news as Steve and Tony were arguing in the kitchen, blaming each other as usual.
“Where…? Is she ok…?” you try to interrupt them, but they’re in the middle of a screaming match.
“Come with me” Maria says, taking you to a whole different wing of the Compound. Since you’ve never been on missions, you didn’t know about the Medbay.
Natasha’s lying in a hospital bed, asleep.
“She’s ok. A guy threw a knife at her, but it was only a superficial stab wound. Doctor said she’ll be discharged tomorrow” Maria eases your nerves. 
Of course, for her it’s easy to say it’s no big deal. Agents are shot, blown up, killed in the field. A little scratch is nothing, especially for Natasha. But you take a deep breath, leaving the Medbay in a rush.
As you lock yourself in the Avenger’s Lab, you make F.R.I.D.A.Y. a simple request.
“Show me the mission’s footage”
Natasha’s had worst, truly. But still, her head is throbbing when she wakes up. The doctor discharges her with the instruction to rest for a week. No training either.
The Russian notices a bag with clothes on the chair next to her bed. She finds your Harvard sweatshirt, which puts a tiny smile on her face.
You are nowhere to be found in the Compound when she returns, so she goes to her room to take another nap, the painkillers making her sleepy.
By the time Natasha wakes up to get something to eat, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests her presence in the lab.
“What is it?” she says, surprised to find you working on a tablet. It looks like you haven’t slept in the last 24 hours, five or six cups of coffee around the various tables in the lab.
“I created a new technology for your suit” you jump right to it. “It has motion sensors that are triggered by incoming threats. That way, if someone tries to sneak up on you, you can either get an alert or program a defense mechanism that can be shot from any part of the suit” 
Natasha takes the tablet, running the simulation. She’s impressed with the level of detail you’ve placed on this and on such short time. She’s about to thank you, but you’re already asleep in the couch of the lab, clearly exhausted from all the work you’ve done.
The sight of your sleeping form makes Natasha’s heart flutter.
Movie night is the one tradition you’ve always been on board with. Coincidentally, it’s Natasha’s least favorite. Depending on her mood, she’ll join everyone on the living room, or talk you into watching something else in your room or hers.
Tonight, she stops by once the movie has already started. As usual, you’re on the couch in the far back of the room, your glasses reflecting the screen as you eat some popcorn.
“Hey” Natasha leans over the back of the couch and whispers against your ear, making you jump. Your eyes follow her as she jumps over to plop down next to you.
“You’re not supposed to be doing that with a hole on your side, Natasha” you reprimand. 
“It’s fine” she lies, grabbing some popcorn.
As the movie keeps going, the woman inches closer to you. At first you think she’s settling in her seat, but then her hand spreads on the back of the couch, dangerously close to your neck.
It’s fine. You can handle it.
Nope, you absolutely can’t. Not when you feel Natasha’s nimble fingers playing with the hairs on the back of your neck, her digits alternating between caressing the skin and scratching your scalp.
“You’re hot” she whispers at some point and you turn to look at her, dazed.
“Huh?”
“You feel hot” she clarifies a second later, her eyes looking at your lips. “Is everything ok? Those powers of yours are acting up”
“I’m fine” you nod, looking back at the screen. Aware that you are in fact increasing the temperature in the room, you take a breath and close your eyes, before anyone else notices.
You’re almost back to normal when Natasha stretches and lies across your lap, her left hand squeezing your thigh as the other one begins to trace patterns in your skin.
All while she's wearing your Harvard sweatshirt.
Your only thought is to take it off, along with the rest of her clothes and kiss every inch of her body.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., is the thermostat broken…?” Tony finally snaps, annoyed at the sudden changes in temperature. “Never mind” 
Everyone follows his eyes as he looks to the back of the room, where Natasha is playing dumb while riling you up.
“Can you two find a room to turn into a sauna and spare the rest of us?” Tony says, which makes your eyes widen, and the room practically turns into a freezer. “Great, now we’re all turning into popsicles. Cap, you’re familiar with the feeling, right?”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Tony” Natasha finally stands up, showing you some mercy. “Come on, detka” 
“Uh, ok” you say, your voice barely a whisper as you allow the woman to drag you back to her room.
As soon as the door is shut, she pushes you against it.
“So, tell me” she says with a playful smile. “How hot do you think it will get here?”
You can only shake your head, speechless. Natasha smiles, kissing you softly. All thoughts leave your head, opening your mouth to give her access. You’ll do anything she asks, anything at all.
“I see” she smiles when the room gets hot. “Good thing we won’t have our clothes on” 
It’s the best sex of your life.
So much so, the fire alarm goes off in the entire Compound.
“Fucking worth it” you sigh as you’re both naked in bed, the water from the sprinklers evaporating from all the heat in the room.
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scented-morker · 1 day ago
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When you catch the bouquet at a wedding !
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Inspired by pooks @luvyeni … this was so easy for me to write for some reason. 1.1k words, FLUFF, pet names and a couple smooches, fem!reader, mentions of an older sister in won’s part
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Heeseung
He might be more excited about it than you were
Actually crazy because the other girls were shoving each other and jumping and it just happened to fall into your hands 😇
You look at the bundle of flowers in shock while all the guys at your table start nudging and elbowing your boyfriend
“You know what that means~”
When you come back over to the table you still look vaguely surprised, but you just set the bouquet down and go to take your seat like nothing happened
Meanwhile hee has spent the last five minutes planning your wedding
He pulls you into his lap before you can even sit in your own seat and whispers in your ear
“So we’re getting married huh?”
Now you’re both blushing messes 🤭
Jay
Bro has been ready to marry you since about the day you met
He’s the one that tells you to go with the other girls when they announce the bouquet toss in the first place
So when you actually catch it he just lights up
The proudest, most lovesick smile on his face
While the other girls fawn over you he turns to the guys at his table
“Guess who’s getting married!!”
The boys jump up and down with him and shout
“Do you even have a ring?”
They all shush sunghoon bc that doesn’t even matter 🙄
You’re flushed when you make your way back to him, fresh off of being mercilessly teased by your own friends
“So what size ring do you wear?”
“WHAT?”
Jake
He hypes you up before the toss, rubbing your shoulders like you’re a boxer about to go in the ring and not a bridesmaid trying to catch a bouquet
“Go get them baby!” He yells as you walk over, placing a light tap on your bottom while you roll your eyes and try to pretend you don’t know him
But he really really wants you to catch the flowers, so who are you to disappoint your man 🤨
Some girl almost knocks you down, but you catch those flowers !!
You can’t even bask in your success because Jake is running to the dance floor to pick you up and spin you around 🥹
“The wedding gods have spoken! You have to marry me!!”
You’re laughing like a maniac because he’s still spinning you and he’s so happy
“In what world would I ever say no?”
Hoon
He’s lost it
Like they called all the girls up to the floor for the toss and he was so confused when you winked at him before running up 😭
He asks Jake what you’re even doing before being told that whoever catches the bouquet is the person to get married next
His eyes get so wide as he watches the giant group of girls wrestle for the bundle of flowers
“They take this seriously huh?”
The boys let out actual cackles when the crowd disperses and you’re standing there with the flowers in your hand 😇
“Wait so that means-?”
He gets nothing but nudges and teases in response
“Hoon I caught it!!” You yell excitedly when you rejoin him at the table
His ears are pink, but he sends you the prettiest smile
He slides one of his rings off and slips it gently onto your hand
“Good job baby.”
Sunoo
“You have to catch that bouquet!!” He tells you excitedly. “It’s fate ok! Catch it!!”
You laugh as you join the other bridesmaids on the dance floor where the bride is
It’s silly, you know you’re gonna marry him anyway, but if he tells you to catch the bouquet then you’re gonna catch that bouquet 🙂‍↕️
Sorry to the girl you accidentally elbowed… this ain’t about her
The first thing you do when you catch it is turn to look at your boyfriend
While normally the guys look slightly embarrassed or shy, your boyfriend is jumping up and down and cheering
“That’s my girl!! Look she caught the bouquet!! We’re gonna get married!!”
You laugh at his reaction and run over to join him
“We’re gonna get married!” You join in with him
He takes the bouquet from you and kisses your lips
“Dang right we are.”
Jungwon
“You’re gonna go?” He asks when you stand up to participate in the bouquet toss
His ears are already red, and you let out a soft laugh
“Won there’s like fifty girls, I’m not gonna catch it. It’s just tradition!”
It’s your sisters wedding and she’d actually murder you if you didn’t participate, which Jungwon realizes is a valid point
“Ok, well have fun! Don’t get knocked out!”
You roll your eyes and stand on the outside of the crowd, not that interested in catching it
You swear your sister does it on purpose because explain how the bouquet is flying straight at you, completely away from every other girl on the dance floor 🤨
You barely have time to grasp it before she’s running over to you
“Oh it’s fate!! You’re next little sis!!”
You hug her with the flowers and turn to find your boyfriend, expecting him to be hiding his face or not paying attention
Instead he’s got the biggest smile on his face, deep dimples poking into his red cheeks while the other guys wolf whistle
He walks up to you and gives you a kiss
“I guess we can’t argue with fate.”
Riki
He’s laughing at you
“I hope that mean bridesmaid trips you when you try to catch it.”
“Shut up!” You smack his arm before walking away, sticking your tongue out when the mean bridesmaid he mentioned walks straight past you and to the front of the group
You didn’t care that much about catching the bouquet, you just wanted to annoy your boyfriend 😁
So when it actually lands right in your hands (knocked off its original course by the mean bridesmaid who hit it so hard it almost hit you in the face) you are SHOCKED
People immediately start cheering, and you don’t even have to look to know it’s coming from the table your boyfriend is still standing at
When you finally spare a glance to him, he’s gone entirely red and is being jostled by the rest of the guys at your table
You set the bouquet down nonchalantly on your table, pressing a kiss to his cheek before whispering “I wear a size 6 ring baby.” And then running to the bathroom to touch up your makeup
He will never recover (and is secretly making a Pinterest board of every size 6 ring he finds)
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sunflowerwinds · 2 days ago
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take care | s.a
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summary: you get absolutely hammered at a party with your bestfriend, caitlyn, and you call your girlfriend to the rescue when your exhaustion hits you out of nowhere. sevika takes care of your intoxicated state and the groggy morning after.
pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane
contains: slight modern!au (they use cell phones), established relationship, alcohol consumption, cait & mel being BAD BITCHES, fluff, mentions of suggestive content, sevika being so attentive and patient <3
word count: 2.9K
a/n: absolutely self-indulgent, i wrote this the day after recovering from a hangover LMAO <3 i hope you all enjoy!!
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You truthfully couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten as drunk as you were at this very moment. A friend of your best friend's had invited you two out to this warehouse party-club situation. You were hesitant at first, not knowing if you had that in you but the second you arrived at the apartment of the friend, who you found out was named Mel, and they were pregaming with Fireball and Malibu shots, you knew you were incredibly fucked.
You had a great time, granted.
Your best friend, Caitlyn, Mel, and you made new friends amid the crowd. The girls were so lovely, throwing compliments on hair, makeup, and outfits back and forth.
Before you knew it you had made your way onto the stage with the DJ, telling him to play a certain selection of songs. He even lets you queue them up on his laptop. You huff as you realize that you want to go home but Mel was talking to some tall man who was quite handsome off stage in a corner and Caitlyn was with you on stage but she was busy talking to a red-haired butch that was covered in tattoos on the other side of the large stage.
You reach lazily into your back pocket, pulling out your phone to call your girlfriend. You blink rapidly to try and focus your eyes on your screen, leaning a bit to one side as if that would help your slightly blurry vision due to both your intoxication and the number of strobe lights.
You successfully press the call button and hold the speaker up to your ear as you take slow steps over to Caitlyn, tapping her bare shoulder as she is wearing a rosewood red lace tank and a short black skirt. You mutter an apology to someone you bumped into as you tap on her shoulder again.
She turns her head around to see you holding up your phone to your ear, furrowing her brows.
“Wait, darling, who are you calling?” Caitlyn shouts over the music, one hand on the girl’s shoulder that she was talking to and the other brushing her long blue hair over her ear.
“Sevik– Hi, baby!” You beam as the line clicks, cutting yourself off before nodding to Caitlyn and mouthing, ‘Sevika’.
You think you hear a little bit of shuffling on the other line before you shake your head with a frown, looking up at your best friend. The line clicked off so you assumed you needed to go somewhere quiet to be able to talk to the woman you loved.
“Cait, wait a minute. I’m gonna,” you take a deep breath to stabilize yourself, holding a hand out to make sure you don’t face plant onto the ground. “‘M gonna go just a little bit outside so that Sev can pick us up. I’ll be righ’ back, okay?”
“No, no, you’re not going alone. Wait right here. Do not move.”
The taller woman turns to the butch she was talking to, sending her a quick flirty smile before leaning down to say something in her ear. You wait patiently for her, looking down at your screen again to see a few message notifications from Sevika.
from sevi ❤︎ | Babe, is everything okay?
from sevi ❤︎ | You did mean to call me, right?
from sevi ❤︎ | Please text me, my love. I’m getting a bit worried.
Your heart aches at the bright reminders that you have a girlfriend: who cares about your well-being. You look up to see Caitlyn placing a kiss to the woman's cheek before handing her back her phone. You swore even being as drunk as you were, you could tell how flustered that woman was. You understood though.
Caitlyn is fucking stunning.
“We grab Mel and we head outside, okay? I see her right there.” Caitlyn’s long arm hooks on yours, a big of a smug grin on her face.
“She was hot! You gave her your number right?” You squeal as you carefully step down with Caitlyn to the ground level once again.
A wave of nausea washed over you as you attempted to balance yourself out. You believe Caitlyn confirmed the fact that she had gotten the butch’s number but the next thing you remember is being face-to-face with Mel and the man she had been talking to.
She tells you his name, leaning in to shout it in your ear.
“Jay? Hi Jay! You are very handsome,” you shout in his face, a stupid smile on your face.
The man’s face twists in amusement at your state and looks at Mel with a softer expression. “H-Hi! It’s Jayce but thank you.”
Your mouth forms into an ‘o’ at how you misheard the name, stuttering out apologies. He waves it off, telling you it's okay.
“I think someone’s calling you,” the man, Jayce, points to your phone that was buzzing in your hand.
You look down at it, muttering a curse as it was Sevika calling you once again and you are still inside the loud crowded warehouse.
“Meli, we’ve got to go outside for a moment. Sevika’s calling her,” Caitlyn placed a hand on Mel’s forearm.
Mel looked between you and Jayce, excusing herself to the man and reassuring him that she’d be right back. He told her it was fine and to not worry about it. You couldn’t hold back your awe and wave ‘bye’ at Jayce as Caitlyn and Mel now had one arm hooked on either one of yours as the three of you made your way outside.
“I’ll call her back,” Caitlyn reaches for your phone that was gripped tightly in your hand.
You easily allow her to take it from you, resting your head on Mel’s shoulder as the fresh air hits you the second you step outside. You hum a random tune as Mel rests her head on your head too, rubbing her free palm on your hand.
Caitlyn took a step away from you two to dial Sevika on your phone again to let her know that you were fine and just wanted to go home. Within minutes after ringing her back, Sevika was in her beaten town truck just across the street. You gasped at the sight of it, even in your drunken state, you were able to recognize the familiar vehicle.
Sevika walks over to you three, greeting Mel and Caitlyn first before allowing you to wrap your arms around her torso to lean into her touch. You held yourself up weakly, stumbling over the curb.
“Sevika,” you sigh with a slight groan.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here. We’re gonna go home,” the taller of you two leaned down to press a kiss to your damp temple from your sweat.
“We’ll see you on Monday. I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.” Caitlyn assures you with a sweet grin, leaning back into Mel now that you are clinging to your girlfriend.
“Wait, who’s taking you home? I don’ want you guys to be here alone,” you look up at Sevika and point your finger over her shoulder to her truck. “Let’s take ‘em home, baby.”
Mel and Caitlyn are quick to assure you and your girlfriend that the man that they were previously talking to would take them home as he was the DD for his best friend that he was with that night. You stare unable to remember for a moment who they were talking about.
“Ohhh, Jaycey boy! He seems really nice, Meli. I’m so happy for you,” you nod in approval with a thumbs up as you lean into Sevika’s chest.
“She has our locations, Sevika,” Caitlyn tells your girlfriend, hinting to her to check it every once in a while to make sure the man wouldn’t take them anywhere they weren’t supposed to.
Sevika nods in understanding, sternly telling the two to please be safe. Mel showed a photo of Jayce to Sevika to make sure she knew who this man was. Your mind only had bits and pieces of that night that you were able to remember.
For instance, after Sevika had picked you up, you couldn’t remember the drive home whatsoever. What you do remember is begging Sevika to get some Nacho Fries and a frozen Baja Blast.
You reached over her lap from the passenger's seat to tell the worker your order, Sevika placing a hand on your lower stomach to keep you steady so you wouldn’t fall forward and hit your face on the car door.
“Wait, Sevi, do you wan’ anything?” You turn your back into the car to look at your girlfriend.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you, baby.” she leans forward to kiss your side before patting your hip to motion for you to sit back down.
“Mm okay,” you hum before telling the worker that should be everything and snuggle back down into your seat.
After paying for the food and handing it to you in the passenger's seat, Sevika told you that you were almost home and you could eat it then. You didn’t listen and ate all of the fries in her car and hounded down the Baja Blast with ease.
Thankfully, your shared apartment was only a few minutes away from Taco Bell.
Sevika had opened your passenger's side door when you arrived, holding back an amused at the giddy expression on your face. She held her arm out for you to grasp onto as you stepped down onto the concrete of the road. You hum to yourself as you look up at Sevika, raising your free hand to pat her broad shoulder.
“Baby, would it be so bad if we…?” You trail off as you giggle to yourself at the thought.
“If we what?” Sevika hums back as her arm slithers around your waist to hold you up as the two of you make your way to your apartment.
Sevika internally cursed as she knew you wouldn’t want to go up all of the stairs. You two lived on the fourth floor.
“Well, I don’t know. What we woul’ usually be doing on a Friday– Oh!”
You yelp as Sevika wraps her arms around your waist to hoist you up and over her shoulder, cutting off your words. Your hands rest on her lower back, grinning mischievously to yourself at the sight of her skin.
“You don’t feel like throwing up?” Sevika questions as she holds your thighs down with one of her forearms.
“Nuh-uh. ‘M lovin’ this view though,” you chuckle to yourself as you stare at her ass, blinking a bit to focus your vision.
Sevika shakes her head knowingly, smiling at your giggles the whole way up the stairs. She even felt your hands caressing her strip of skin that was exposed from her slightly cut-off t-shirt.
“You’re having fun down there?” She questions as she approaches your front door, reaching into her front pocket to pull out her keys.
You merely smack her ass to confirm her suspicions to which she lightly smacks your own with a: “Keep your hands to yourself.”
You twiddle with a loose string coming from the shirt as she carries you into your cool apartment, tossing her keys into the bowl near the front door. She kicks the door shut with her foot with a soft grunt, scaring you for a moment at the sudden movement.
“Baby, lock the door for me, please?” She asked you, scooting backward a few steps.
You lift your head, steadying yourself with one weak hand on her lower back as you reach for the three knobs. You twist each of them to the right with a soft click. Sevika kisses the side of your hip that is next to her face and thanks you before making her way down the hall to your shared bedroom.
“Sevi, I think I’m gonna throw up a little,” you warn her, hiccuping a bit.
Sevika’s eyes widen at your words as she carefully sets you down on your feet, holding your hips to lead you to the bathroom. You cover your mouth as you stumble to kneel next to the toilet, hunching over as you wait for the vomit to hit the water. Sevika quickly took her place next to you as she pushed back your falling strands of hair, gathering it in a ponytail in her fist.
“Let it out if you need to. It’s okay if you can’t,” she rubs your back with the other hand, wincing at your gagging.
You groan as you shake your head, eyes watering at the fact that it wasn’t coming up.
“It’s not– I can’t. I though’ I could, Sevi,” you frown up at her as you slump against the wall in front of the seat.
Sevika shushes you as she releases your hair and takes your hands into her larger ones, urging you to stand up.
“It’s okay. Let’s just get you to bed,” she instructs you gently.
You nod slowly, sniffling as you let her lead you back into the bedroom. You remember her carefully removing your ‘party clothes’ and putting one of her sleeping tees on you. She knew how much you adored them so at least you would have that to wake up to. She grabbed some of your micellar water and a rag to remove what was left of your makeup, holding your jaw in your hand as you kept trying to lay down once the comfier clothing was on.
After doing the usual night routine, you plopped down onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh as she snuggled your cheek into the pillowcase.
“Night, baby,” you hum as you smack your lips.
“Good night, my love,” she teases as she places a kiss on your cheek before rounding the bed to lie down on her side.
You pretty much passed out as soon as Sevika had lifted the covers over you two, mouth ajar and limbs awry.
You were never drinking again.
You thought as you carefully sat upright in your bed, squinting your eyes hard as the light from the morning sun was blinding you through your thin curtains. The headache and nausea hit you all at once as you covered your mouth, afraid of the bile that might escape. You wait a few seconds to make sure you aren’t actually going to throw up. Your eyes follow to your bedside table as you reach over to grab your phone, your movements slow as ever.
As you squint your eyes to focus on the screen, you see a few messages from Caitlyn and Mel; telling you they made it home and they were in fact not kidnapped. You then shift your eyes to the numbers at the top.
It was 9 o’clock in the morning; way too fucking early for the night you had.
You grunt as you gradually lay back down, wanting to stay still for the next three hours to not trigger the pounding headache to worsen. You peer over your bedroom door to see that it was left halfway open, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Not to your surprise, it was Sevika with a small tray of food for you. You could hear her whisper a curse as she tried her hardest to not spill the coffee on it.
“Sevika?” You call out to her, your groggy and strained voice making your head hurt.
“You’re awake. Good morning,” Sevika tells you with a knowing and sympathetic smile.
You groan in response to her words, wanting to grab the pillow you were laying your head on and shield your face.
“I want to sleep,” you say right off the bat, frowning at her as you try to recollect the events of the previous night.
“I know, my love but can you eat this for me? You’ll feel better once you have food in you.”
Your girlfriend slowly sits herself down on the empty space next to you; her side of the bed. You knew she was right but you felt like you had to use so much energy just to sit upright, let alone eat.
And chew.
And drink.
It all sounded so… bothersome. But then you feel Sevika leaning over to press a few kisses onto your cheek and jaw, a hand rubbing up and down your arm that was out from under the comforter. You shut your eyes as you sigh at the feeling, wishing the kisses could push away your hangover.
“15 minutes,” she places one kiss on your jaw, “and then,” another to your nose, “you can sleep all day.”
You pretend as if you weren’t already set on eating as she continues to kiss as gently as possible every square inch of your face. Your smile grows as you force out a grumbled ‘fine’ as you steadily sit upright so that your back is resting on the headboard.
“You’re too good to me, Sev,” you tell her as you rub your tired eyes, yawning as she places the tray in your lap.
Sevika hums in agreement, playfully tapping underneath your chin with a hooked finger.
“Just eat. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“No,” you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “Never leave me alone.”
Sevika can’t help the smitten flush that covers her face as she takes your intertwined hands to kiss the back of yours.
“Never.”
You weakly smile at that before digging into your eggs, toast, fruit, and Tylenol with a long and collected sigh, enjoying the flavors of it all. You look down at your sleeping attire, feeling warm at the fact that it was Sevika’s.
Whether it was drunk, sober, or mind-numbingly hungover, she always took care of you.
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TAGLIST: @eilishxo @nevergonna-give-u-up @archangeldyke-all @violynsb @lesbianpuppygirl @cutestdarkskin @moodient @starytree @capedyke @sameshoeally @lovinglynny @rurides @iluvwomensm
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chobunz · 3 days ago
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only you, darling.
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pair: toxic bf!sunghoon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, jealousy, toxic relationship, f.ngering, dacryphilia, slight dub-con ??
[ 💭 ] jealous mean bf!sunghoon who gets off on humiliating you and making you feel guilty for spending too much time away from him. it seems like no matter how many times you apologize or reassure him it’s never good enough— he won’t forgive you unless you really mean it.
a/n. i originally wrote this for giselle from aespa but i thought this concept was also fitting for hoon so i made this version too >~<
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
you’re crying out pathetically, sinking your nails into sunghoon’s arm as he’s fingering you roughly, pounding his fingers into your sloppy pussy at a rapid pace. his other hand is enveloped around your neck, choking you but not enough to fully cut off your airflow.
his knuckles are red and injured. the wounds on his skin as a result from his work out due to him not being careful, using the punching bag without gloves. you’ve told him before to at least wrap his hands in bandages, but he kept on insisting that he was ‘fine’.
you felt his fingers trace the inside of your cunt making your face contort messily, your bottom lip held captive by your upper teeth. you wanted to shut your eyes so badly, but you knew you couldn’t— if you dared to even look away for a second you know there would be consequences for it.
“useless fucking cunt,” sunghoon spat out angrily, looking at you as if you’re the person he despises the most in the world, and yet, here he is stuffing you full with his fingers.
your legs couldn’t stop shaking, and the sound of your juices leaking out from your pussy and dripping down to his knuckles is making you see stars. your tiny sobs filled the room, the stretch being too painful, but so pleasurable at the same time..
you were just catching up with an old friend that you accidentally ran into while out at the mall, but, you were laughing a bit too much in sunghoon’s opinion. it felt like walking on eggshells with him, you couldn’t do anything without your boyfriend getting mad or jealous and it’s become tiring at this point. it was unhealthy how possessive he was over you, how he’d track your location whenever you were gone, never letting anyone near you— especially if they’re a male.
“is my attention not enough for you, hm ? i thought you only had eyes for me ?” you try your best to shake your head from side to side, showing your disagreement. “no ?” he wonders, even though he knows he’s enough for you, you’ve told him plenty of times before.
“only... you,” you manage to let out, tears falling from your reddened eyes.
you’re completely naked while sunghoon is fully clothed, still wearing his black t-shirt with a pair of shorts and the silver bracelet with your initial wrapped around his wrist; which only made this situation even more humiliating to you.
he pumps his fingers in and out of you and a slight smile tugs on his lips when you say those two words. he leans in, his mouth just beside your ear. “right, ‘cause you only need me, baby. only me,” he whispers, making goosebumps scatter across your skin, the hair on your arms raising up.
you let out a soft whimper at that, letting go of his arm to crumple his t-shirt between your small fingers. he kisses the side of your face, collecting a single tear of yours at the same occasion. your stomach flutters, your pussy quivers around his fingers and your heart thunders in your chest.
his digits skillfully scissors you open, patting the sweet spot inside of you. and when you come undone, your entire body shakes like a leaf and your vision becomes fuzzy.
you cream his fingers and he slowly pulls them out after, sucking your juices off them one by one. “if you can’t settle for me, i’ll find a way to make you stay. understand ?” his hot breath hits the side of your face as he threatens you in the sweetest voice.
you nod your head in compliance, showing him you understood and he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before crashing your lips with his.
he lies down beside you and you shift yourself closer, hugging him and resting your head down on his chest. you take his bruised hand in yours to observe it quietly, delicately tracing his knuckles, giving them healing kisses.
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@leeechin @pshbites ♡︎
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notrobinsomethingworse · 3 days ago
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Clark: I had a good night Bruce.
Bruce: I did too.
Clark: I’ll see you tomorrow then?
Bruce: Yes. I will see you tomorrow.
Clark: … Goodnight Bruce.
Bruce: Goodnight… Clark.
Bruce: [sighs] wait.
Bruce: I’m not a man who expresses his emotions easily but… Clark. I love you.
Clark: Bruce-
-
Batkids, in a bush nearby
Cass, peaking out with the only pair of binoculars.
Steph: You gotta tell me what’s going on. Come on Cass.
Dick, also looking out: Shut up he’s saying something.
Steph: Cass please.
Tim: You all realise Clark can hear us right now…
Damian: Please. The alien has always been incompetent and with Father providing an acceptable distraction I doubt he even noticed the poison I snuck into his wine.
Dick: Damian. You did what-
Jason: Good job baby bird. Getting a little practice in before the kryptonite?
Dick: Don’t encourage him-
Steph: Cass come oonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-
Duke: This is insane. You guys all know this is insane right? Why did I agree to this-
Jason: I have no idea why you think I’m supposed to be a good role model. I’m a drug lord.
Dick: Well right now you’re not. You’re fuckin Jason Todd.
Jason: I’m fuckin legally dead dickbird-
Tim, elbowing Damian: Use this wisely.
Damian, taking the lead lined box: This does not mean I will consider you my equal.
Tim: Ha. You’re nowhere near my equal.
Damian: How dare-
Tim: You’re more like my grandson with how Ra keeps wanting me to have his babies.
Dick: Hold up-
Damian: DRAKE-
Steph: Okay Cass it’s been like twenty minutes. Pleeeeaaaase tell me what’s going on.
Duke: -I could be takin’ a nap right now. Havin’ a bubble bath. I’m not a bath kinda guy but I could be. Ya know?
Jason: Amen to that.
Dick: Can we rewind to Tim being courted by Ra Al Ghul.
Cass: We have been spotted.
[Everyone shuts up]
Cass: Both are on route.
Dick: Manoeuvre 3C. Run for your fucking lives.
[Mad dashing]
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rissouu · 2 days ago
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I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ
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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!
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when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.
your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.
that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.
but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.
he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.
well.. so you thought.
you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.
“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.
you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.
the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.
just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.
no. fucking. way.
“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.
technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.
how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?
the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.
you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.
but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.
“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.
with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.
instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.
about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.
with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”
you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”
as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?
“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”
that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.
you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.
“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”
your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.
“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?
“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”
throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”
before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.
“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.
it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?
“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”
‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.
you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.
you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.
“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.
the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.
it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.
“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”
“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”
the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.
“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”
that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.
gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.
“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”
every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.
that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.
gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.
“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”
gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.
you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.
when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.
“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.
you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.
the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.
“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”
your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”
a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.
he finally got his girl back.
faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.
“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.
the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.
“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.
his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.
your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.
“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.
gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?
finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.
the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.
your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.
“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”
his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.
“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.
“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.
the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.
his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.
his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.
“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.
your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”
gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.
his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.
“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”
you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.
“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?
gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”
you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.
“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”
you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.
“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.
gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.
“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.
your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.
“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.
“yes toru, i understand.”
if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.
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©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 day ago
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How you reward the JJK men after they won their game
Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, sports au, college au, smut, mention of mental health, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, oral sex (male receiving), heavy exhibitionism, dirty talk, use pet names, mdni
Incl - Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna
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SATORU
“Fuck baby, that’s it…” Your large sweaty boyfriend pants underneath you. His hands are firmly wrapped around your hips, guiding your movements up and down his massive shaft.
The music and loud chatter from the after party is still raging on down stairs. Your college football team had managed to win the homecoming game against their rival team. It was a close game ending in 45-42. Your team had managed to kick a field goal as a last ditch effort to not go into overtime for a tiebreaker.
The party would soon be looking for the star quarterback to cheer him on, but little did they know he was too busy getting his fill of your pretty cunt.
The bed creaked beneath you two, and the air was filled with soft pants and hushed moans. Satoru was always on such a high after winning games like that. This was your second round. He barely got you through the door before he started on the first, taking you right up against the door — fast and hard to get the adrenaline out.
Now, it was time for the big celebration. “Sh-shit… so big, Toru. I-I can’t take it!!” You whined, but you and Satoru both knew that if he even thought about stopping right now, you’d probably cry from frustration.
The sound of skin slapping against skin was somehow heard over the blaring music. His shaft was coated in a thin slippery sheen of your arousal, easily impaling you over and over on his thick length.
“You can.. oh fuck- you can take it, sweets. Take it for me, yeah?” His pale blue eyes shined up at you as his skin was flushed. His white feathery hair was messily displayed on his head. He was always such a mess for you. “Just like thaat~ take it like a good girl. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
You were nearly drooling from his filthy words. Satoru was always so chatty when he was getting close, and judging by the way his swollen tip was frantically diving in and out of you and how his hands were holding onto you, jerking you around with little concern — he’s very close.
Satoru removed one of his hands to gently rub tight circles onto your sensitive clit. “Let me fill you up. Please — just one more time. Fuck, one more time of me filling up my girl’s pussy.”
Your head was spinning. How could you say no to that when your whole body was consumed in pleasure by him? Satoru could ask you to do whatever in that moment, and you’d happily agree.
“Yes.. fuck yes, please Toru..”
With the mention of your little nickname, Satoru lets out a groan, and his length pulses inside your spongy walls, pumping you full of his cum. It’s a mere seconds later before you’re spasming on top of him — gasping for air as you clench down on his length.
You two take a moment to sober up in each other’s arms — panting for breath and whispering loving words of praise. “You looked good out there tonight.” You murmured dreamily into his chest.
“Aren’t you suppose to say I did good?” Satoru asks with a small laugh. His hand is entangled in your hair, gently rubbing your scalp as he softens inside you.
“Eh. Same thing.” You respond with a happy laugh. It’s not long after that someone is pounding on the bedroom door — telling you two to take a break so they can celebrate Satoru’s victory.
SUGURU
“Mmm, sh-shit, sweetheart.. Gonna make me cum early if you keep that up..” Suguru groans as his oversized veiny hand holds a tight grip on your hair.
There was something so exhilarating about sucking your boyfriend off in the locker room after every basketball game he won. Any of his teammates could walk in right now and see you on your knees in front of him, his back pressed against the cold metal lockers as he guides your head slowly up and down his length.
He’d let his teammates watch too if they walked in. You’re so pretty when you’re in your element. It’s truly a sight to behold, and he doesn’t mind giving his teammates a little morale boost by watching his pretty girlfriend giving him head.
He’d break their hand and put them out of a career if they tried to touch you though.
His eyes are fixated on you. He always gives you such a loving look while you work hard on your knees for him. He knows you’re trying so hard to fit all of him in your throat, but he’s just too big.
With every whine and gag, Suguru growls in approval. His hand continues petting your head. “That’s right… Gag on me, sweetheart. Doin’ such a good fucking job." He pants, leaning his head back against the locker.
He can't help but slowly pump his hips back and forth, forcing himself further down your throat because he loves seeing the tears that gather in your eyes. He loves seeing how completely ruined you are after sucking him off.
You look up at him with such a pitiful look he can't help but shove your head down as far as your throat will let him, and he unloads completely down your throat. He lets out breathy moans and growls as his cock twitches, spurting ribbon after ribbon of cum.
"Good girl." He praises huskily before yanking your head back so he can press his lips to yours, hungrily seeking out your taste.
Before you know it, Geto has you bridal style in his arms. "Just you wait, sweetheart. I'll return the favor once we're back in my dorm." He teases with a smug grin on his face. If you performance wasn't enough to motivate him to win each game, your thighs wrapped around his head definitely was.
NANAMI
The first time Kento took you to the press box after having won a game and railed you until you couldn't think anymore was out of sheer convenience and adrenaline.
Now? It was more of a tradition. You don't even know why the school trusted him with the keys to the press box, but you didn't question it.
Your boyfriend was normally so gentle and doting. The only time you got to see this more rough, primal side to him was after a big win, and Nanami's team just won the game needed to make the championship game.
"Mmmph... you feel so g-good, darling." He enunciates his praise with open mouth kisses to your neck. His hands have yours pinned above your head as he has your back laid out on the control desk. Your pretty white skirt was hiked up to your waist, and he was stood between your legs.
Your hands try helplessly to grab at the desk, but his thrusts were too heavy for you to grab onto anything. The wood creaked beneath each brutal movement. Your legs were already trembling, and he had just started.
The sounds of wet slapping noises filled the press box. Luckily, no one was in the stadium right now, or they'd see their star baseball player filling up his pretty girlfriend so full right now. If either one of you pressed the mic accidentally, the speakers would blare from the sounds of your whines and lovemaking.
"K-ken~!" You whimper as your body squirms beneath his, trying to find the smallest bit of refuge from his heavy cock bullying its way between your velvety walls, thumping obscenely against your womb.
He releases your hands with a small grunt, grabbing onto your hips to try and keep you still. His muscles ripple with each forceful thrust. He just has all this energy after his games that he has to release somehow, and this wasn't enough.
"Fucking... come here." He suddenly demands before grabbing you up and lifting you effortlessly off the desk. There's nowhere for you to run off to anymore. Soon, the entire rhythm is set by how fast and hard he can yank your body up and down his cock.
You're quickly reduced to a whiny puddle in his arms, only able to stutter out his name followed by various curses. His hips quickly jackhammer into you, pistoning deeper than he ever has before.
You can't even choke out a single word before you're spasming all over his cock. Your walls clamp down impossibly tighter around him like a vice, causing him to groan in satisfaction.
"Thaaat's it~ That's a good girl. Shh, I have you." Kento purrs in your ear, still fucking you through your orgasm to prolong your pleasure as much as he can. Soon, he could feel his balls tightening, demanding that he empty himself into you. "I'm gonna cum, sweet girl. You... you're gonna take it, right?" He pants.
One frantic nod and a pitiful hum of affirmation later, and Nanami's pulling you down onto his cock as hard as he can, making you take him as deeply as possible whit his cock pumps you full to the brim of his hot sticky cum.
"Did so good for me.." He praises as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple. "You're a work of art, darling."
CHOSO
"Cho, you were amazing out there!" You happily praised your boyfriend as he carried you in his arms. You knew he never stuck around long after games, figuring it was just in his introverted to want to leave so soon.
"Mhm.." He shakily hums, cradling you closely to his chest as he was on a mission: get you back to his dorm as soon as possible.
"Are you okay, baby?" You ask in a concerned tone, hoping he wasn't having another panic attack like he did after that one game.
Sometimes the adrenaline of winning and the concept of having everyone's eyes on him was too much for him to handle. He was beyond lucky to always have either you or Yuji by his side to talk him down from whatever had triggered his panic disorder.
"I'm okay." He hoarsely whispered. No, it wasn't anxiety that had him nearly trembling while carrying you. It was something else entirely.
*** *** ***
"You said I did good, right?" He huskily whispered as he pawed at your pants. He had you trapped beneath him on his bed. The room was dark, only warmly illuminated by a small bedside lamp. The scent of Choso's cologne as well as the natural musk from sweat was heavy in the air between you two.
"Yes, baby. You did so good." You hummed in agreement as your heart pounded against your ribcage. There was something off about Choso tonight. His nervous yet assertive energy had you feeling on edge.
"I deserve a reward then, right?" He asks, slowly tugging down your pants. He holds your gaze, looking for any sign of hesitancy or discomfort.
"I-" You weren't opposed to what he was suggesting, but honest, you were just taken aback. Your normally sweet and loving boyfriend was trying his best to be almost condescending towards you. "What are you wanting as a reward, Cho?"
Now, it's Choso's turn to nervously gulp. He's sweating even more now -- so incredibly nervous to directly tell you what he wants more than anything in the world right now.
"I want you to sit on my face." He finally blurts out like ripping off a Band-Aid.
"You want me... to sit on your face... as a reward?" You question.
He eagerly nods, looking like an excited puppy.
You can barely get out the word 'okay' before he's tugging his hair out of the messy buns he had it in. His strong arms grab ahold of you and roll to where he's on his back, and you're straddling his chest.
He's put a lot of thought into this. In fact, he's fucked his fist more times than he can count to the thought of you riding his face, using him for your pleasure.
"Cho- my p-panties aren't even off!" You squirm to release yourself from his grip, but he just hauls you up closer to his face.
"Leave them." He demands lowly, looking up at you with lust-blown dark eyes.
... and that's how you end up marathon cumming on your boyfriend's face more times than you can count... as a reward for him.
TOJI
Win or lose, Toji bends you over and fucks you hard and fast in the penalty box after every hockey game.
Even if his team won the game, he still usually has so much pent up aggression to where he needs to let out some steam, and your pretty pussy is the perfect punching bag for his cock.
"T-toji-! Slow down-" You choke out in a whine. Your cheek is pressed up against the glass as his hands are wrapped around your waist, completely ravaging you from behind. You can feel your tears smearing against the penalty box, and your legs are starting to tremble. It's hard enough trying not to slide around on the ice.
Toji was seething. He had sat a good portion of the game in the penalty box for fighting one of the opposing players.
Apparently, the opposing team had a little strategy to get the best hockey player, Toji, out of the game, which included goading him about his pretty little girlfriend.
Not surprisingly, Toji was quick to take the bait and nearly tried to stomp on the fucker who dared to utter your name.
"You want me to slow down?" He laughs as his hips continue their frantic rampage. "You don't like it when I'm mean to you? Don't be a liar, girl. Your fucking pussy's trying to clamp down on me. 'm starting to think she won't ever let me go."
And the worst part is, he's right. You're uncontrollably fluttering around him, leaking all around his cock and even dribbling onto the ice because your body loves how rough he is.
You're crying now out of sheer pleasure and overstimulation, unable to even choke out a response. Luckily for you, your boyfriend isn't a complete monster, and he hunches over your back, wrapping his big thick arms around you so you don't have to worry about slipping and falling.
"Answer me, girl." He grunts, using his new position to pinch on one of your nipples. "You love this shit, don't you? Say it."
"I love it-!" You cry out, allowing yourself to be free and vulnerable in the moment with him where no one else can hear you. "I love you-" You add as you don't have the mental capacity to hold yourself back.
The sudden warmth of your confession has Toji's hips stuttering. For once in his life, he's off balance. In a quick movement, Toji sits down on the bench, and he slams you right back down onto his lap, his cock impaling you on your way down.
"I'm gonna ruin you, doll." He growls into your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat as he pins your back to his chest. His hips rock back and forth, still pumping you so full. "You're mine -- mine to ruin. I fucking love you."
He came to the realization of his own feelings when he was ready to risk it all - his place on the team, his hockey scholarship, his freedom over some sad sack of shit who spoke your name in a foul way.
SUKUNA
Sukuna’s a little deviant when it comes to his rewards.. As soon as the kicker scores the last field goal needed for his team to win, Sukuna is charging out to the stands with a face of stone.
People literally make way for him, terrified of the way he looks. Plus, they all saw what a monster he was out on the field. It doesn’t take a genius to know not to fuck with him.
The only person who doesn’t move or dodge him is you. You give him the biggest hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and praising him for how well he did out on the field tonight. I mean, he only crushed three peoples’ ribs tonight. He was learning how to control his temper.
He doesn’t respond to your praise, only giving you a grunt before he unceremoniously slings you over his shoulder. He’s come to claim his prize of the night.
No one notices you two slip off into the darkness of the night — far away from the Friday night lights. Sukuna carries you out to where some random person’s car is parked, and he can’t resist himself anymore.
It’ll be a while before anyone makes it out to their cars anyways.
Bending you over the hood, you quickly start to protest and squirm, whining about how you will be caught, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to be listening.
“Be good.” He demands in a low grumble as his oversized fingers hook into your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down around your knees in one tug.
“Sukuna-“ You plead once more, but as soon as his fat fingers swipe across your cunt, gathering your arousal, you know you’re done for.
“Hm? What is it?” He asks with obvious amusement. He finds it cute how you still deny liking being manhandled, but your pretty glistening pussy says otherwise.
“We can get in serious-“ Your breath hitches as his fingers delve inside, slotting right between your warm velvet walls. He’s already filling you up so good, you can’t even find your words anymore.
Sukuna just smirks, knowing he has you where he wants you. You’re so addicted to his touch, you’re willing to slut yourself out on the hood of some stranger’s car for him.
He’s convinced now. You were tailor made just for him. No one will complete him the way you do, and even if they did, Sukuna would end them just to find you again.
He pumps his fingers in and out of your slippery cunt while keeping his other hand firmly planted between your shoulder blades, forcing your face down onto the cool metal of the car beneath you.
His hips roll and grind against your backside, letting you feel his raging erection through the tight spandex pants of his uniform.
He’s working you so perfectly, curling his fingers just the right way and thrusting them so hard he’s practically lifting you up just by his fingers in your cunt. You’re nearly drooling against the car, letting out the most erotic sounds as you can’t be bothered to care anymore.
The pleasure builds and builds, and you start to hear voices in the distance. For whatever reason, it only heightens the experience.
“Come on. Give it to me.” Sukuna growls as he pushed his hips harder against your ass. “Give me what I want.”
“Suku-“ Your cry is quickly interrupted by Sukuna shoving his fingers into your mouth. His other hand is pounding your g-spot to no abandon, making fat tears well in your eyes.
He’s leaking gossamers of pre-cum in his pants, and he growls from the thought of making you lick it up later. For now, he’s going to indulge ruining you against this stranger’s car.
The voices grow a bit louder, and it all becomes so much. You cry out against Sukuna’s fingers as you feel yourself clamp down on his fingers, and the sound of water hitting the ground is heard as your release washes over you.
“Did you just- Fuck me..” He groans, seeing now as your clothes are soaked, and you even managed to get some on the car.
He withdraws quickly, knowing he’s running out of time, and he bends over, pulling your now soaked panties and shorts up over your waist. He makes sure to fasten your shorts before he throws you over his shoulder again to haul you to his dorm room.
“You’re going to do that for me again as soon as we’re home, flower.”
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sigilslvt · 2 days ago
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JEALOUSY • DRABBLE
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☣︎ Summary: The men all have their reasons for getting jealous around you. But how exactly do they react when they feel the threat is much more real? SURELY, they’re rational, right?
Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami
Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, teasing, bulging, pussy eating, choking, breeding, praise, overstim, possessiveness, threatened gun violence, toxic possessiveness, car sex, dry humping, rough sex, squirting, pining, premature ejaculation, love bombing, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, true form sukuna, slight angst
WC: 13.1k
A/N: I cackled writing Choso’s, my poor baby is too precious 😩💜
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༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎
You pull into the gas station because, once again, your car is on its last leg. Satoru’s been absolutely useless this entire car ride, lounging like some kind of overgrown housecat, sunglasses crooked on his nose, humming the most obnoxious song he can think of just to get under your skin. His long legs are kicked up on your dashboard like he’s king of the world.
“Finally, a pit stop,” he says, stretching dramatically. “I was starting to think you’d just run us out of gas for fun. You know, to create a bonding moment.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, putting the car in park. “Stay in the car. Not that I have to tell you that.”
He snickers, not even looking up from whatever weird little game he’s playing on his phone. “Sure thing, sugar. Let me know if you need me to heroically pump the gas for you. I’ll try not to make it look too easy.”
You ignore him because giving him attention only makes it worse. You grab your wallet and step out, the cold air biting at your face as you swipe your card and get ready to fill the tank as quickly as possible so you can return to the cocoon of warmth that is your car. You’re in your own little zone, minding your business, when a voice breaks through the quiet.
“Hey there! Need some help?”
You glance up, startled, and see a guy walking over. He’s got that effortless, small-town-boy charm, the kind of guy who probably calls everyone “ma’am” and knows how to fix a tractor. He’s smiling, too— a little too widely, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s taking the pump right out of your hands.
“Oh, I had it,” you say, trying to be polite, but this guy is already on a roll.
“Nah, no worries,” he says, grinning. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to pump their own gas. It’s just not right.”
You blink at him, caught somewhere between confusion and being impressed, because— wow. Is this really happening?
You glance back at your car, hoping Gojo hasn’t noticed, but as soon as your eyes land on his, you know you’re doomed. He’s sitting up now, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, staring at you both like he’s just been served the juiciest gossip of the year. His grin is growing and you’re sure he’s ready to put on a show.
Before you can stop him, he throws open the car door and steps out like he’s been summoned to the stage. He stretches unnecessarily— arms up, head tilted back, like he’s on the cover of a sports magazine— and then saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.
The gas station guy looks up, noticing Gojo for the first time. His smile falters just a little. “Oh, uh… hey. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.”
Satoru’s already grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m just her boyfriend. You know, the adoring, perfect, doting one who pumps her gas all the time.”
You groan. “Toru—”
“What? I’m just saying, it’s cute that you’re trying to help, bud,” he says, turning back to the guy with a grin so wide it’s almost terrifying. “But this is kind of my thing. I know she’s just the sweetest, but she’s taken.You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.”
The poor guy blinks, clearly unsure if Satoru’s joking or about to start something. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mutters, handing the pump back to you like it’s radioactive. “You two have a good day.”
“Oh, we will!” Gojo chirps, giving him a little salute. “And hey, nice try, man. Better luck next time.”
The guy doesn’t even look back. He practically sprints back to the safety of the gas station, and as soon as he’s gone, you turn to Toru, crossing your arms and pursing your lips in annoyance.
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence as he leans casually against the car. “I was just making sure no one stole my job. You know how much I love pumping your gas.”
You gape at him. “You’ve never pumped gas in your life!”
“Exactly,” he says smugly. “That’s what makes this moment so special. It’s a sacred duty.”
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’re so insufferable.”
“And yet,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders, “you love me. Isn’t that wild?”
“Whatever. I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?” you roll your eyes and start walking toward the station.
“I’ll come with, I’m craving something sweet.” he smirks with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite discern.
You raise a brow and walk with him, entering the gas station with the goal to grab a bag of chips and water, but the second you head for them, your hand is being trapped by Satoru’s and he’s tugging you toward the bathroom. You shoot him a look of confusion and annoyance, but he pays it no mind as he yanks you inside, closing the door behind you and pressing you against it.
“Toru, wha—”
“Told you I wanted something sweet, sugar. Bend over a little f’me.” he instructs, turning you so you’re facing the door. Your palms lay flat against it, trying to use it as leverage to turn yourself, but he presses your head to the door, too, his strong palm mushing your cheeks to it, sucking his teeth in disapproval.
“You’re insane, w-we’re in a gas station,” you try to reason with him, but his hand’s already shoved up your skirt and peeling down your panties. “Satoru, seriously…”
“Y’telling me to stop? She’s cryin’ f’me, though, I think she’ll be so sad if I don’t give her what she wants,” he purrs, getting to his knees and littering kisses on the fat of your ass. “C’mere, baby.”
You’re lost to him the moment he stuffs his face into your already dripping cunt, bucking yourself back against him and into the feel of his greedy tongue slipping between your folds and down, down, down to your clit. You can feel him smirking against you when he draws out a long shaky whine from your lips between your panting and while normally his cockiness would annoy you beyond belief, it instead turns you on more. And yet—
“Wh-hah— why couldn’t this wait until we got to the hotel?” you ask, nails scraping down the door when he plunges his tongue into your twitching hole.
He pulls away for a moment, spreading your ass to spit a glob of saliva between your folds and slurp it back up while sucking your clit. No answer. You huff and tremble, unsure of how long you’ll be able to keep yourself standing if he’s just gonna keep eating you like a man starved.
You try, you really do, to keep your voice down, but when his tongue hits that spot inside of your gummy walls, his hand between your thighs and thumb working on your clit, you can’t help but let your moans slip out. And oh, does that make him even more unrelenting. His thumb draws circles on your clit quicker and with more pressure, his tongue fucking into you as rough as can be. 
Your eyelids flutter closed, breathing labored as you feel that sweet sweet build up that you love so much. He knows what comes next and while normally, he’d see you to the end, this time he stops, earning a frown from your pretty face.
“Wh-why’d y—” you start.
“Y’mine, say it.”
“What? Toru, what’s—”
“Say. It. Say y’mine… say y’love me and I’ll make you cum so good, sugar, I promise.” he all but whines.
You don’t know why it needs to be said or what’s going on with him, but you’ll be damned if you let your orgasm escape you. With every second that passes, it runs from you, so you give him what he needs. “I’m yours, baby. I love you.” you coo.
“Again.” he huffs against your cunt, making your knees weak. He’s so close. You’re so close.
“I love y— hah,” your breath escapes you when he delves his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “Fuuuuck… I love you, I love you, I l— fuck!” your cunt tries it’s best to grip his tongue, but he fucks it into you with more force as you cum on it, losing strength in your legs and slumping down while your brain goes dumb with pleasure.
He holds you up, tongue slipping out of you and back to your clit, his head shaking side to side while he licks at your clit, overstimulating you beyond belief. All you can do is cry out for mercy, palms battering at the bathroom door as you raise your white flag.
With that, he frees you from the sweet torture, massaging your thighs and resting back on his ankles. “I’m pumping your gas from now on.” he huffs.
Coming back to your senses, you realize why he pulled this stunt off. “Satoru. Were you… jealous!?” you chuckle in disbelief.
“I’ve got nothing to be jealous about, it seems. What with the ‘I love you, I love you, I—’” he mocks you while standing up and you smack his arm.
“Sh-shut up.” You huff, pouting as he puts your panties back in place, dolling you back up and kissing your shoulder.
“Nope. But you’re gonna wish you had when the poor guy out there’s blushing redder than red.” he teases. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth with your hand when you realize he had to have heard everything.
“You’re insane.” your voice is muffled by your hand.
“Insane’s one word for it,” he smirks. “I like to say I’m just crazy for you.”
Not long later, you’re climbing back into the car. Satoru follows, flopping into the passenger seat with a contented sigh like he’s just won a marathon.
As you pull out of the station, he stretches again, kicking his feet up on the dash like he owns the place. “You know,” he says casually, “you should really thank me. That guy was totally about to ask for your number. I saved you from a very awkward situation.”
And you could quite literally kill him.
༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎
The room is buzzing with conversation, a polite undercurrent of tension that doesn’t escape you. Cult leaders and their followers mill about in finely tailored clothes, exchanging calculated smiles and empty pleasantries. You’re trying your best to look engaged, but your thoughts keep drifting to Suguru.
He stands a few feet away, surrounded by a small circle of curse users, his tall frame commanding attention with ease. His black robes flow elegantly around him, his long hair tied back neatly. The faint smirk on his face, the calm way he speaks— it all oozes confidence. Control. Every now and then, he glances in your direction, his sharp eyes softening for just a moment before flicking back to the conversation.
You’re nursing a drink near the refreshment table when someone sidles up beside you.
���Ah, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you,” a smooth voice says.
You turn to see a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his polished appearance almost too pristine. His expression is warm but calculated, and his sharp eyes are already fixed on you. Takeda. You recognize him instantly— leader of a large, influential cult. Non-sorcerer, but powerful in his own way.
“Good evening,” you reply, forcing a polite smile. They have their role to play, Geto tells you, so you make sure to keep appearances with non-sorcerers despite their usual poor attitude toward you.
He smiles wider. “Good evening, indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all by yourself. It seems almost criminal for someone as lovely as you to be left alone at an event like this.”
You feel your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, a small flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend,” you say, gesturing subtly in Suguru’s direction.
Takeda follows your gaze and chuckles softly. “Suguru Geto. Of course. I’ve heard much about him.” His attention snaps back to you, and his smile turns almost wolfish. “I must admit, though, I’m surprised. I didn’t think someone so… captivating would end up with a man who seems so creepy… Besides, I’m sure he’s always so busy. Too busy to truly appreciate a beauty like you.”
Your face heats further, and you stammer, “He’s not too busy. He’s just—”
Before you can finish, he takes your hand in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. It’s old-fashioned, deliberate, and enough to leave you momentarily stunned. Not in awe, but in pure shock. He’s bold, you’ll give him that.
Your breath catches, and you feel a wave of heat rush to your face. You try to pull your hand back, but his grip is firm— not unkind, but enough to make you falter. You can’t ruin appearances by hurting him, so you allow it, praying he’ll give up soon.
“A pleasure meeting you,” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over your skin.
And then you feel it— the air shifting suddenly. A heavy, familiar presence fills the space around you, and Takeda finally releases your hand. You glance over your shoulder to see Suguru a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on the two of you as he approaches.
“Takeda,” Suguru says smoothly, his tone light but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flip because you know better.
Takeda straightens and flashes a smile that’s far too confident. “Geto. What a pleasure to see you,” He gestures toward you. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely partner. She’s quite… enchanting.”
Suguru’s lips twitch, curving into a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m aware.”
There’s a pause, the kind that feels too loud in the quiet. Suguru’s gaze flickers briefly to your hand before returning to Takeda.
“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he continues softly.
Takeda chuckles nervously, clearly unsure of how to respond. Geto’s not usually the type to be confrontational in public. It’s normally all smiles and politics for him, so this has Takeda stunned. “I meant no disrespect, of course.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully. “No disrespect… Of course not.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile sharpening. “But you’d do well to remember your place, Takeda. Admiration is one thing. Touching, however…” He trails off, his tone turning razor-sharp, dark eyes honing in on the poor man’s. “That’s dangerous, especially for someone like you.”
Takeda falters, his polished demeanor cracking for just a moment. “I— I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters before excusing himself and retreating into the crowd.
As soon as he’s gone, Suguru turns to you, his sharp expression softening slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.
“You seemed… flustered,” he says finally, his voice quiet but probing.
Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “I wasn’t, he just caught me off guard,” you mumble.
Suguru steps closer, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? Because from where I was standing…” He pauses, his voice dropping. “It looked like you didn’t mind it.”
“Suguru—”
“Did you like it?” he interrupts, his tone impossibly soft, almost vulnerable. “A weakling holding your hand, kissing it like that… Did you enjoy it?” 
Your heart twists at the faint frown tugging at his lips, the rare glimpse of uncertainty in his usually composed expression. That’s when you recognize the look in his eye. It isn’t anger, it’s fear. Insecurity. Things you never expected to see from him.
“No,” you say quickly, reaching for him. “Of course not. I could never, baby.”
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, he exhales softly and takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the spot where Takeda’s lips had been.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.
He leads you down a hallway, wanting to be away from the noise and chatter of the convention. When he pushes open the door to an empty room and pulls you inside, the silence feels almost deafening in comparison to everything on the outside.
Suguru closes the door and turns to face you, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. Without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“Say it,” he whispers, his voice raw.
“Say what?” you ask softly, your hands resting on his chest.
“That you’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “That you wouldn’t leave me for some monkey.”
Your heart aches at the quiet desperation in his tone. “I’m yours, of course I’m yours.” You whisper, your hands curling into his robes. “Always.”
The next thing you know, his lips are melting yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more insistent. When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his eyes are darker than ever.
“Again,” he all but whines, his lips trailing down to your jaw. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice racing as your heart squeezes. “Only yours.”
He exhales sharply, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Good,” he whispers, moreso to himself. “Good… because I need you.”
You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you again, this time with a desperation that feels like he’s trying to erase every trace of Takeda’s touch from your skin.
His nails dig into your sides, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting all that you have— all that you are. He’s needy, moving to hoist you up and hook your legs around his waist.
Your dress rides up your thighs and he wastes no time gripping at the fat of them, subtly rolling his hips into you in a way that tells you he may just be doing it subconsciously. Gasps are shared between your lips as he kisses you a few more times before moving to swipe his tongue up your neck, stopping just under your jaw and sucking a big fat hickey into the crevice.
It feels so good that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working their way down, down, down to your ass, pulling you into him with every roll of his hips. You feel how hard he is even through his robes, unable and unwilling to stop yourself from sliding the top of his gojogesa off his broad shoulders. You’re dipping your head down to pepper kisses all over his shoulder while he marks you up, your nails leaving marks of their own on his skin from how hard you’re gripping him.
You know what this is. Know what he needs. You’d be a fool to stop him from taking it. “Sugu… here.” You tell him, emphasizing your words by rolling your hips in tandem with his.
You swear you hear him growl as he tears his lips from your throat and grips your underwear on one side to tear them off, your eyes widening at the action. Suguru’s normally a calm, calculated man, even when he makes love to you, everything is suave and he’s always in control, but now? Now, he’s become someone entirely different. Someone needy. Someone eager to prove a point. To stake a claim.
“Here, angel.” Is all you hear before your mouth is stuffed with your own underwear and– when did he whip his dick out? You’ve got no idea, but it’s plugged into you before you can react, a long and grateful groan just spilling from Suguru’s lips like he’s finally laying in bed after a long day of hard labor. He’s home. Your head falls back against the door and he uses the opportunity to attack your neck again, littering the skin with kisses, licks, and the occasional bite.
He’s got no rhyme or rhythm in his thrusts, he simply ruts into you with a force that has the door shaking, the metal bar rattling and making your stomach lurch with fear at the fact that it could so easily be pushed for you two to end up on display for everyone. The fear falls away soon, however, replaced with nothing but pleasure when he’s targeting that wonderful gummy little bullseye that makes you go dumb on his cock.
Your eyes start searching for something in the back of your head, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and soaking your underwear as your shaky moans are muffled by the fabric. And you don’t know when it started, but your ears tune into Suguru whining the same thing repeatedly. “Mine, all mine, mine, mine, mine—” again and again and again with every punctuated thrust targeting your poor cervix.
Your nails rake down his back, hoping to find some sort of balance to compensate for the fact that your legs are beginning to ragdoll, no strength left in them as they flop by his sides with every thrust. Except, you don’t have to worry. No, his grip on you is bruising, he never wants to let you go.
And you wish you could see his face in this moment. See how he looks when he’s so adamant about proving it to himself that you’re his. Before you know it, you’re snaking a hand into his hair and tugging his head back, earning a needy little whine from his puffy lips before he’s looking at you. Oh, is he looking at you. Like you’re the world. Like you’re salvation. His brows are drawn tightly together, a pout on his lips that tells you he’d be nothing without you. God, you wanna kiss him. Wanna tell him a million times over that you’d never even think of another.
The look on your face tells him exactly what you want, you think, because in the next instant, he’s tearing the underwear from your mouth and crushing his lips into yours. His thrusts have rhythm now, his hips fucking into you with urgency. Every time his thick cock slips past your puffy folds, you’re inched closer, oh so closer to cumming and your stomach draws tight at the feeling. He’s chasing both of your orgasms, not once missing that spongey little spot that makes you see stars as he pounds you into the door, your voice sounding out to God knows how many people are in the hallway while you kiss him, your drool now slipping down his chin.
You hear him groan into the kiss as his hips start to falter– he’s close. And yet, while his rhythm is lost, his force is worse. Every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there. “I love you,” he whines against your lips before breaking away and letting his head fall back. “I love you, I love you, I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuates the last repetition with a thrust for each word, cumming on the very last one along with you, who couldn’t help but cum at the words he’s never said before.
You two had been together for a year. A whole year and not once had Suguru ever uttered the words. You always knew he wasn’t an emotional man, so you never expected to hear the words. You felt it, though. His care for you. It was in his actions. How he never forgot an important date, how he would always bring home food or a treat or flowers for you, how he loathed being away from you for any given reason. And yet, the words still shock you.
He ruts into you a few more times before he stills, nothing to be heard except for your breaths shared between each other until his eyes go wide– perhaps in realization of what he’s just said, and he kisses you. Softer this time. More sure of himself. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he’s confessed.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. Not angry, not upset, just… needy.  “I don’t care who it is. I won’t stand for it. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I just can’t bear to see that again.”
You smile and offer a tired chuckle, brushing his hair back from his face. “Y’know, for someone usually so calculated and knowing, you sure are stupid,” you shake your head softly. “I love you, too. More, actually.”
His lips press against your temple, and he exhales slowly, the tension in his body finally easing. “Not possible,” he murmurs again, his voice soft. You can hear his smile in it. “Nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you.”
༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎
You aren’t sure if dragging Toji to your high school reunion is a brilliant idea or the worst decision you’ve made all year. On one hand, you know he can charm the socks off anyone when he wants to, all cocky smirks and lazy grins that send shivers down your spine. On the other hand, he doesn’t exactly thrive in situations that involve niceties and polite small talk—especially with people he doesn’t give a shit about. Still, you’ve convinced him, mostly because you want to show him off. He’s hot, and he’s yours. What’s the point if you can’t gloat a little?
Toji is surprisingly well-behaved for most of the evening. He nurses a glass of bourbon with his usual swagger, leaning against the bar and throwing you looks that tell you that he’ll be waiting for you to make this worth his while later. He even manages to avoid scaring off too many of your old classmates, though you catch the occasional side-eye when he’s not so subtle about telling them to fuck off. Everything’s going smoothly.
That is, of course, until he notices you talking to him.
You don’t mean to bump into your ex-boyfriend. Really, you don’t. But there he is, standing near the drink table with the same easy grin you remember from your teenage years. He calls your name, and before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling back and walking over. Toji’s gaze burns into your back the entire way.
“Wow, you look amazing,” your ex says, his tone warm but casual. It’s just an observation— a compliment between old friends, but you can just feel the way Toji’s teeth grind from across the room.
“Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, keeping your tone light. The conversation flows easily, filled with harmless reminiscing about old high school antics. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. Just memories of embarrassing pranks, favorite teachers, and the god-awful cafeteria food.
But you know Toji. You don’t have to look to know he’s watching, his sharp green eyes narrowing every time your ex laughs or steps just a little too close. You can practically hear the internal dialogue: “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”
Then your ex does it. The thing you know is going to push Toji over the edge.
He hugs you.
It’s quick and friendly, a casual embrace to say goodbye. But as soon as your ex’s arms wrap around you, you feel your body being eaten up by your boyfriend’s shadow. You pull back quickly, about to turn to Toji to defuse whatever storm is brewing, but it’s too late.
He moves quickly— silent and deadly. One second, he’s leaning against the bar. The next, he’s standing behind you, his presence towering and suffocating. His hand rests on the back of your neck, deceptively casual as he leans in close.
“I dunno why yer touchin’ her, pal,” Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous, “but don’t let it happen again.”
Your ex blinks, clearly startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I… sorry? I was just saying goodb—”
Toji’s hand moves and you worry he may actually hit the poor guy. “Oh, shit.”
“You gonna say goodbye, then get the fuck outta here,” Toji says, his grin sharp and feral as he subtly lifts his sweater just enough to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “Before I decide you don’t need yer legs.”
Your ex’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to retreat, mumbling something about it being nice to see you before practically sprinting away. You don’t even have time to scold Toji before security is suddenly very interested in the two of you.
Five minutes later, you’ve been escorted out of the venue, Toji’s hand resting possessively on the small of your back. You wait until you’re alone in the parking lot to whirl on him.
“Seriously?” you hiss, smacking his arm. “You pulled a gun on him?!”
“Relax, doll,” Toji says, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I didn’t even take it out.”
You groan, stomping toward the car. You reach for the passenger door, but before you can open it, his arm shoots out, blocking your path.
“Nah,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Yer sittin’ in the back with me.”
“What, am I in trouble now? Gonna spank me?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
Toji doesn’t answer. He just opens the back door and shoves you inside, sliding in next to you and shutting the door behind him. You cross your arms, giving him a pointed glare. It doesn’t take long before he’s sulking.
He leans back against the seat, legs spread wide, and huffs like an overgrown child. “Wasn’t jealous,” he mutters.
You snort. “Sure you weren’t.”
“Ain’t funny,” he grumbles, glaring at you.
You can’t resist pushing him just a little further. “If you’re not jealous, then you won’t mind if I go back inside to grab his number. Y’know, for old times’ sake.”
His head snaps toward you, his jaw tightening. In one quick motion, he turns, caging you against the seat with his arms. “The fuck you just say?”
“You heard me,” you say, smirking. “If you’re not jealous, it shouldn’t bother you.”
Toji’s eyes narrow, and the tension in the car shifts again, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s something else entirely. He leans in until his nose brushes yours, his voice dropping to a low growl.
“Ain’t about bein’ jealous,” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “Ain’t nobody else touchin’ my girl. Don’t care what reason they have.”
His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as his lips ghost along your jawline. His touch is possessive, his grip firm enough to leave no room for argument. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.
“Toji…” you start, but he cuts you off with a low chuckle.
“Nah, you’ve been mouthin’ off thinkin’ yer cute,” he says, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “Time to shut that pretty mouth o’ yours.”
He's enjoying himself, towering over you in the confined space of the car, the sunlight streaming in from the windows only highlighting the wolfish grin that spreads across his face.
“You’re so—”
"Hm?" He hums, his hand already snaking down your side, easily slipping under the hem of your dress as he plants a kiss onto the side of your neck. "Y' got somethin' t' say, doll?" 
His fingers dance on your skin, inching closer and closer to the spot he knows will make you weak in the knees. He's toying with you, getting a kick out of your restraint as you try to formulate words again. But before you can finish even a syllable, he cuts you off.
"Save it, sweetheart. Was gonna be nice 'nd all when we got home t’night, but you had to go and run that pretty mouth with yer ex." He growls lowly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So while yer getting yer brains fucked stupid, I want you t’remember… this is on you.”
With a rough grasp, he flips you onto your stomach in the backseat, your dress riding up your ass as he yanks your panties down with a swift tug, the cool air hitting it and making your hole clench around nothing. His dick is hard and straining against his pants, pre seeping through to form a dark spot. The anticipation of what's to come has your breath hitching, heat pooling between your legs. He leans over you, the weight of his body pressing down onto yours.
He’s rutting against your ass, one hand sliding up to toy with one of your nipples while his other hand massages your hip. God, if you could see the needy little look on your face right now, then he’d finally get you to understand just why he’s so addicted to you. You’re just so gluttonous for him. Always wanting more, more, more. And of course, he’s always willing to give.
But right now isn’t the moment for giving. No, he needs to take. To take and take and take until there’s no more left of you to give to anyone but him. Always him. He backs away just enough for him to unzip his pants, his cock springing free. His hand finds it immediately, stroking himself in slow, teasing motions, hard length throbbing against your bare ass. There's a devilish grin on his face as he utters, "Gonna show ‘er how much she needs me."
Without waiting for a response, he aligns himself with your sobbing cunt, teasing your folds with his thick head just swiping back and forth and mixing his pre into your skick. He groans at the contact, his hand gripping your hip tighter. Suddenly, with a swift thrust, he plunges himself deep, his girth stretching you so mind numbingly good that you fear you may just pass out. The thing is, he’s barely in, but the sensation is already overwhelming, causing you to gasp and buck your hips.
He wishes you knew how fucking good you feel. Wishes you knew that whenever he fucks you, that tight ring of resistance tries so hard to push him out. That is, until he’s fucked his fat tip into you a few times, because then you’re practifally sucking him in. He knows the stretch is a lot. Knows you’re sore hours later without fail and yet, you still beg for more. Just like now.
Words are failing you, but your look is enough. You want more. Need more than just his tip. You wanna be broken in. And so he does. He feeds you inch after inch of him, sitting up and pausing at the halfway point to admire the way your cunt looks swallowing him so eagerly. He grasps at the globes of your ass, jiggling them and biting his lower lip at the God granted sight.
His free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair before he grips tightly and brings your head up so he can press your face into the window. And just light that, he fucks the rest of himself into you roughly, grunting.
"Fuckin’— take it," he rasps out, taking a brief moment to adjust to the feeling of your tightness around him, unable to resist a little moan of his own. Then, he starts moving. Slow and punishing at first, then picking up speed with the same punishing force. Each thrust is precise and purposeful, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes you feel fuzzy. He's unabashedly vocal too, grunting and groaning with each delicious slide in and out of your wetness. "Fuck... y' take my cock so good..." he compliments, pushing your face harder into the back window. 
Easing up on his grip on your waist, he rolls his hips, grinding against your ass before pulling out for just a moment to slap his tip against your folds, watching as your cunt twitches and then thrusting back in again. His actions are deliberate and controlled, meant to stir you up and drive you to your limit. 
"Please baby, please, please, please..." you moan helplessly, your words swallowed up by the sounds of your bodies slapping together and his grunts of pleasure. But he merely chuckles darkly, gripping your hip and pressing your face against the window harder as if to anchor himself and punish you at the same time, his thrusts never faltering. 
"Y' can gimme more than that," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down, teeth nibbling at your exposed neck. 
He slows almost to a stop, but the slight shallow thrusts still feel so overwhelmingly good you think you’re gonna go insane. “Y’really think she could live without me? Mmm mm, no, she needs me. I’m the only one who can stuff this greedy little pussy the way she needs to be stuffed. Isn’t that right, baby? Say it f’me.”
“F-fuck! Toki, gonna—” SMACK!
“Not talkin’ to you, princess. Talkin’ to her.” He delivers a pointed thrust into you to emphasize the fact that he’s genuinely talking to your cunt in his pussydrunk state.
Your sure he’s left a permanent handprint because of how hard he spanked your ass. The sting that lingers where his palm landed makes your cunt twitch and ache around him, which he considers to be answer enough. “S’what I fuckin’ thought. Atta fuckin’ girl, yes baby.” He groans, quickening the pace ever so slightly and beginning to pull you back into him to meet his thrusts.
“Talkin to an ex, y’must have wanted to get yerself fucked stupid, hm? Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” He’s talking, but you can tell it isn’t for actual answers, no, it’s more to himself. He’s fucked out. So close to the edge.
The thrusting quickens, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "Cum f' me, doll," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, "show me how good I make y' feel. Only me. And then I’m gonna breed yer cute cunt so good." With that, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, aiming for that spot inside you that will unravel you completely.
That’s when you finally let loose, the coil inside your tummy snapping and letting you feel so much pleasure that you’re moving your ass back into him with a force that’s unmatched, just swallowing him deep into you over and over again. And that does it for him— his cum spurting inside you and filling you so good.
He kisses you so hungrily you feel you may just lose your breath entirely and pass out. His hands are holding you in place so you don’t fuck back onto him, because he knows if you did, he’d break you.
Toji leans back, smirking at the sight of you, his thumb brushing your swollen lips.
“You done throwing your little tantrum?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
He glares at you, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, y’know that?”
“Oh, I know.” And deciding to drop the bombshell now, you lean back against the seat and say casually, “By the way, he’s married. To a man. They have two kids.”
Toji freezes, his expression shifting from smug to incredulous in seconds. He blinks like a cartoon character in shock, his brows furrowing. “What?”
“Yup,” you say, your grin widening. “Your big, scary display of dominance? Totally unnecessary.”
He huffs, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face is so priceless you wish you could brand it into your memory. “Tch. Coulda fuckin’ said somethin’ sooner.”
“And miss all the fun?” You laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Before you can say anything else, he’s on you again, his hands roaming as he mutters, “Gonna make you pay for makin’ me start a scene.”
You laugh, the sound cutting off into a gasp as his hands find their mark. “I made you start a scene? Oh, this I gotta hear.” You say, your voice breathless but still teasing.
“Keep talkin’, doll,” he says, his grin turning wicked. “See where it gets ya.” And then his lips are finding yours again. Just like that, the argument is forgotten, lost in the haze of his possessive, consuming affection.
༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎
The mall is crowded, loud with the hum of chattering voices and echoing footsteps. It isn’t your favorite place to hang out, but your best friend had begged you to come along. Somehow, Choso ended up tagging along too, though you weren’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly the mall type, after all— too quiet, too detached from the bustling energy of human spaces like this.
You glance over your shoulder at him now, and there he is, just like you’d expect. He’s trailing a few steps behind, hands shoved into the sleeves of his robe, his dark eyes drifting lazily over the crowd. His usual stoic mask is firmly in place, making him seem untouchable to anyone passing by. But you know better than that. Beneath the unapproachable aura, Choso is awkward— painfully shy even. He’s still figuring out how to interact with humans, still trying to understand what it means to live in a world like this.
And for some reason, he’s decided you’re his safe space.
You smile to yourself, turning your attention back to the task at hand. Your friend had told you they’d meet you at the bookstore, but they’re running late, so you decide to wander into one of the nearby shops to kill time.
Choso doesn’t follow. You assume he’s probably going to find a dark corner to tuck himself into. 
What you don’t realize is that he does follow. At a distance. He’s used to watching from the sidelines, content to let you move through your world without interference. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he learns from watching how you interact with people, animals, media, and the likes. He learns about the world, but more importantly, he learns about you.
His eyes are on you now, but just seconds later, they shift. There’s a new focus, a new target. Him.
The guy behind the counter at the little boutique you walked into. He’s tall, clean-cut, and obnoxiously friendly. At first, Choso thinks nothing of it. It’s not like he can stop every stranger from talking to you. But as the guy’s gestures become more animated, and his laughter gets a little too familiar, something shifts in Choso’s chest.
He wishes he could hear whatever it is he’s saying that has you so giddy. Wishes he could just— wait, what?
The guy leans forward across the counter, his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, maybe a receipt, maybe a bag, Choso doesn’t care. Because what he does next is what hammers the nail in the coffin. His hand moves to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair, making you laugh. It’s the casual intimacy of the gesture that makes his stomach churn. He knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knows. But he can’t help the way his jaw tightens, or the way his fingers curl into fists in his sleeves.
You’re still smiling at the guy. You’re laughing. And he hates it.
His mind spirals before he can stop it. The scene plays over and over in his head, each time twisting into something worse. What if you like this guy? What if you’re into someone who can flirt with ease, someone who doesn’t stumble over their words or overthink every little thing?
What if you don’t want him?
Choso feels a sharp pang in his chest, like something fragile has cracked. He’s been so careful, so guarded with his feelings. He thought he could keep them tucked away, safe from rejection, safe from ruining this. But now? Now he feels them slipping through the cracks, raw and unmanageable.
He looks away, leaning back against the wall outside the store. His heart’s racing, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he has any claim over you. You’re your own person, free to talk to whoever you want. He’s just… He’s just the weird half-curse with no idea what his place is in this world who follows you around and doesn’t know how to say what he feels. But what if he did say it?
The thought hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and electrifying. He’s scared, sure— terrified, actually, but the idea of staying silent is worse. He doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, not without at least trying.
So he waits.
When you finally walk out of the shop, you’re holding a small bag, a content smile on your face. You spot him instantly, standing off to the side like he’s been there the whole time.
“Hey, sorry that took so long. They had some really cute stuff in there,” you say, holding up the bag as if to explain.
Choso doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the shop behind you, then back to your face. He doesn’t ask about your purchases. Instead, he asks, “Who was that?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Who?”
“The guy you were talking to,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, but there’s something behind it—a tension you can’t quite place.
“Oh, him? That’s just my friend from school. He works here part-time,” you explain, shrugging. “I didn’t even know before now.”
Your words are casual, but they allow Choso a wave of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, replaced almost immediately by a surge of determination. This is his chance. His moment to say what he’s been holding back.
“Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
You tilt your head, curious but not concerned. “Of course. What’s up?”
He gestures for you to follow him, leading you away from the bigger crowd and toward a seating area deeper in the mall that’s less populated. Once you’re there, he turns to face you, his hands still buried in his sleeves.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He’s searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, what comes out is raw and unfiltered.
“I thought you liked him,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blink, surprised. “What? No, Choso, I told you, he’s just a friend.”
He nods, but his gaze drops to the floor. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” you ask gently.
He looks up at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “This. Any of this. Being around people. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act.”
You wait, sensing there’s more he wants to say.
“But with you… it’s different,” he continues, his voice steady despite the nerves etched into his expression. “I don’t feel lost when I’m with you. I feel… human.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.
“And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I like you. I… I think I’ve liked you since the moment we met. I just didn’t know how to say it— didn’t know what it was. B-But I do, now.”
You stare at him, his confession hanging in the air between you. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a mistake. That he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross.
But then you smile.
Not just any smile— the kind of smile that makes him feel like the world isn’t so complicated after all.
It’s all you can do because his confession doesn’t catch you off guard, not really.
You’ve always known.
“Cho,” you say softly, stepping closer, “I know. I’ve known for a while.”
His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “You… knew?”
You nod, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time. Time to figure out what you wanted, how you felt.”
He’s silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified.
“For what it’s worth,” you continue, your voice warm, “I like you, too. Just as you are. You don’t have to change or be anyone else for me, Choso. I like you for you.”
Something in his expression shifts. It’s now a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something more raw. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Can I… kiss you?”
The question catches you off guard, not because you don’t want him to, but because of the way he asks it, so tentative and earnest.
“Of course,” you say, your tone gentle but steady.
But he hesitates, his eyes darting to the small crowd around you. His voice drops lower, almost shy. “Not here. Can we… go somewhere else?”
You bite back a smile at how endearing he looks, his cheeks tinted pink as he avoids your gaze. “Come on,” you say, nodding toward a quieter hallway where the restrooms are tucked away.
He follows you like a shadow, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he keeps his head down. When you reach the single-occupancy restroom, you push the door open and step inside, holding it for him as he follows. The door clicks shut, and the noise of the mall fades into a distant hum.
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension in the small space thick enough to cut with a knife. Choso shifts nervously, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… don’t know how start,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” you reply, your smile soft and steady. “Just follow my lead.”
You step closer, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. He freezes for a moment, his dark eyes wide and uncertain, but when you lean in, his lids flutter shut.
The kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as you deepen it, something shifts. It’s like a switch flips inside him, and suddenly his hands are on your waist, gripping you like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.
He grows bolder with each passing second, his fingers wandering over your arms, your back, your hips, your ass. There’s a desperation in the way he touches you, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. Finally, he pulls you flush against him, his entire arms wrapped around you, one hand gripping your hip and the other on your shoulder.
You can’t help but chuckle against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. “Easy, Cho,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, his face flushed as he loosens his grip, but only slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”
Your smile softens, and you press a light kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel nervous.”
You kiss him again, this time letting him lead you. As things heat up, he starts to get carried away again, his hands roaming with a mix of urgency and inexperience. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath ragged as he presses closer, his body practically trembling against yours.
Suddenly his whole body stiffens and a low, unsteady sound akin to a whine escapes him before he pulls back, his face burning with embarrassment. He avoids your gaze, his hands falling away as he stammers, “I— I’m sorry. I dunno what— I didn’t want to stop, I—”
You pull back further to see a dark patch beginning to form even on the purple cloth that rests in front of his robes, realizing what happened. Your perfect Choso just came in his pants from kissing you. You can’t stay silent much longer for fear of making him more embarrassed, so you hush him gently, cupping his face and tilting it so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “Cho, it’s okay,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new for you, and that’s perfectly fine.”
He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of judgment or disappointment. When he finds none, his shoulders relax just a little.
“You mean that?” he asks softly.
You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course, I do. We’ll take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”
He nods slowly, the tension in his posture easing as he lets out a shaky breath. After a moment, he looks at you again, his expression soft but serious. “Is this… what love is?” He closes his eyes, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he leans into your touch. And in that quiet, stolen moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in its place.
༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎
The room is dimly lit, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. You’re lying back on the exam table, your dress pulled up over your growing belly. The monitor hums softly as the sonographer, a man with overly polite eyes and a soothingly gentle touch, adjusts the machine. He explains the process as he goes, his voice calm and warm, clearly trying to put you at ease.
Today is your first 3D ultrasound where you’ll finally get a better view of the life growing inside you. It feels surreal. You’ve had to wait until you’re 32 weeks along to get the best view, so the wait has made you antsy. Will it look like Sukuna? You? Will it smile or suck its thumb? Surely it’s too early for that, right? All of these questions are running through your mind and making your body vibrate with both nervousness and anticipation. It actually does help that the sonographer noticed and is trying to soothe you. 
You glance to the corner where Sukuna stands, his towering figure leaned protectively against the wall. His crimson eyes are locked on the sonographer, sharp and unyielding, like a predator stalking prey. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, claws tapping rhythmically on his forearm, a faint sound that portrays his growing irritation. The air feels heavy with tension; thick enough to cut with a knife. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t contribute to your current nervousness.
The sonographer prepares to squirt gel onto your belly, offering you a soft smile. “This might feel a little cold,” he says, his tone careful. “But it’ll help us get a clear image of the baby.”
You flinch slightly at the cold, and the response is immediate.
“Watch your hands.” Sukuna’s voice slices through the room, low and menacing.
The sonographer freezes, visibly startled. His gaze darts nervously to Sukuna. “I- I’m just preparing her to perform the scan, sir. There’s no need to worry.”
Sukuna scoffs, the sound dark and mocking. “Worry? I’m not worried, human. I’m warning you.” His crimson eyes narrow, radiating danger. “You’re touching my wife who’s carrying the heir to my throne. Be mindful.”
You press your palm to your forehead, exhaling sharply. “Ryo,” you say, your tone firm. “He’s doing his job. Stop scaring him.”
Sukuna’s eyes flick to you, softening slightly, but the fire in them doesn’t fully die. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The sonographer hesitates, visibly uneasy, before resuming his work. The wand glides gently over your belly, and the monitor flickers to life. He points out the baby’s heartbeat, their tiny limbs, and the way they seem to kick at nothing in particular. His voice is soothing as he explains, almost too soothing for Sukuna’s liking.
You can see that the baby has four limbs, thankfully, and it’s got a frown on it’s face, much like its father’s. Until you speak, that is. When you speak, you can see the soft smile that graces your sweet baby’s face, again much like its father’s. You feel tears prick at your eyes finally seeing your baby so clearly.
The sonographer glances at you again, his smile almost reverent. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby looks perfect— beautiful, actually.”
That does it.
“Beautiful, huh?” Sukuna mutters, his voice laced with venom. “Bet you say that to every woman you see. Must be part of your script. You’re just so reassuring. Well, my wife doesn’t need that. She has me. Do you think yourself better than I?”
“Ryomen.” Your voice sharpens, and you shoot him a glare that tells him you’re angry. “Enough.”
He stares at you for a long moment, his lips curling in mild defiance, but he backs off for now. The sonographer continues, though his hands move a little faster this time, clearly eager to finish. Sukuna’s eyes remain locked on him, every small movement scrutinized like a hawk circling its prey.
Finally, the scan concludes. The sonographer hands you a towel to clean off the gel, offering another polite smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sukuna doesn’t give him the chance.
“You’re done, right? Get out.”
The man’s eyes widen; he looks to you as if hoping for an intervention. You manage a tight smile. “Thank you for your help. Forgive my unpleasant husband,” you say pointedly, dismissing him with a polite nod.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. Sukuna stands there, still bristling, his claws twitching at his sides.
You sigh, wiping the last of the gel from your belly. “You’re ridiculous, Kuna. He wasn’t touching me in any sort of suspicious way.”
“He shouldn’t have been touching you in the first place,” Sukuna snaps, taking a step closer.
“He’s a medical professional, Ryomen. It’s his job.”
“I don’t care,” he growls, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “He was too close; too soft. Like he thought he could make you feel safer than I do.”
You sit up, tugging your dress down over your belly. “No one is trying to take your place.”
He scoffs, pacing in front of you like a restless beast. “You’re mine. No one else gets to put their hands on you like that.”
You stand, squaring your shoulders as you step into his path. “Would you rather our child go unchecked and we miss something bad? You can’t scare every single person who helps me, Ryomen.”
His eyes narrow, the frustration in them simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re too soft,” he mutters. “Always making excuses for people who don’t deserve it.”
“Soft doesn’t mean weak,” you counter, standing firm. “And I don’t need you turning every little thing into a fight. Trust me, Ryomen. I’m not going anywhere. But… you’re wrong, you know. I do need comfort. You provide safety, yes, but never reassurance. Gentleness. Maybe just… passive acceptance. I’m carrying your child. Of course I’d like to be doted on and treated with care.”
Before he can get upset again, you add, “By you. Only you. So just— please stop it with the anger and hostility. I want my child to know their father is capable of love the way I know he is.”
The tension in his shoulders loosens slightly, though the possessiveness in his gaze remains. He steps closer, towering over you, his hand coming to rest on your belly. His touch is firm but deliberate, a reminder of who you belong to.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You. The baby. You’re my dearest prizes. No one else gets to act like they know how to care for you better than I do. I study everything, every minute detail about you and what’s to expect with the child. I suppose I’ve been so wound up with preparing myself and protecting you that I’ve gotten more hostile than usual. I… can work on it.”
You place your hand over his, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Get back on the exam bed.”
“What? Why? He’s finish—” he interrupts you by walking you backwards until your ass hits the edge, caging you in.
“Because I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look carrying my heir and standing up to even me. And I’d like to show you just how much I love it.” He says, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck, just below your jawline. As expected, you tilt your head up for a kiss and he indulges you, kissing you so hungrily and lifting you onto the bed.
His hands wander all over your body, his touch carrying a gentleness you’re not used to. Goosebumps raise on the whole of your body in response and you’re leaning forward into the kiss, losing yourself in it. You don’t even realize he’s hiked your dress up and removed your panties until the cold hits your slick-sheened pussy.
“Ryō—”
“I know, brat, I know.” He says, a teasing lilt in his voice as he parts from your lips to kiss along your jaw. “Come to the edge f’me.”
You do exactly that as he undoes his robes to reveal his second set of arms… and his second mouth. God, you love how freaky this man is. His second set of arms grip the globes of your ass to hold you steady as he pulls you flush against his lower mouth, his fat tongue just smearing your cunt with your slick and his saliva. 
You’ve never cared to admit that this mouth of his has always been your favorite. It’s so big that it offers more coverage, more pressure, and gets so much dee—
“Biiiiig stretch.” Sukuna warns you before he plunges his second tongue into your hole, lingering at that first ring of resistance to deliver a few shallow, but mind numbingly pleasurable thrusts before he pushes the rest of the way in; as much as he can, that is.
He uses the moment your pretty little mouth releases an ah! to kiss you again, his first set of hands slipping up your dress to find your tits. If there’s anything he’d put on top of the list of things he loves about your changing body, it’s this. How fucking thick your ass has become and undeniably huge your tits have grown. Just swelling and preparing to fill with milk to sustain his heir.
He pinches your sensitive nipples between his large fingers, making you moan into the kiss, relaxing your cunt around his tongue between you. Suddenly, you’re lifted just slightly above the table, his other hands beginning to fuck you on his tongue, his saliva and your slick just drip, drip, dripping onto the bed and floor beneath you.
“So greedy. Pussy’s always so fucking greedy…” he groans, resting his forehead against yours so you both can watch as your pussy bulges from swallowing his tongue so eagerly. It’s such a lewd sight, one you’ve undeniably grown addicted to in your time together.
Your moans mingle together and it’s then you realize that he’s now using just one of his hands to fuck you on his tongue. His other is wrapped around both of his cocks and pumping them together, ribbons of pre falling down his lengths and being smeared by his movements. You’re not even slightly ashamed of the way you salivate seeing him getting off while eating your pussy and watching himself do it. It’s so fucking filthy that you can’t help but—
“Gonna cum f’me, aren’t you? Mmmmmhm, can tell by how she’s flutterin’ around my tongue. My needy fucking wife.” He smirks, pulling you flush to him so that the widest part of his tongue rubs against your clit while he switches it up and fucks his tongue into you, faster this time.
“O-Ohmyfuckinggod!” The words come out strung together, the added attention on your clit making you see stars, your breath quickening, heart beginning to race. You lean back onto the bed using your hands to prop you up so you can get a better view.
“So nasty, beautiful.” A chuckle falls from his lips and you can’t even respond before his upper hands are just engulfing your tits and kneading, easing the pain of the swelling and pleasing you at the same time.
Then, something happens. Milk begins to drip from your right nipple and it has you both stopping in your tracks. You’d heard of the low possibility that milk can come before you give birth, but you never considered it’d happen to you. A blush of embarrassment creeps on your face and you’re about to apologize when you hear Sukuna groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth immediately latches onto your tit and he just sucks.
“S-Sukuna, fuck!” You whine, his lower tongue beginning to work your quivering pussy again, bringing you right to the edge of pleasure.
He releases your tit with a pop! and nips it gently. “Mine. Mine, mine, all fuckin’ mine, such a good Queen providing for my heir early. Gonna be such a good momma.” He praises you before beginning to suck the lactating nipple again, making you come undone on his tongue, your gooey insides clenching around his tongue, trying to stop him with how tight you are, but he’s too strong, fucking his tongue into you through your orgasm to swallow up every last bit of cum you have to offer him.
It’s not until you’re whining and your legs are limp, weak pushes against his shoulders making him release your tit and slip his tongue from your slobbering hole. He runs the tip of his tongue against your oversensitive clit just a few times before you feel him kiss your puffy folds, making your body lurch.
You watch breathlessly as he tries to suck up the milk from your poor abused nipple again, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging his face up to yours. “Y’know, you’re mine too. Forever. Don’t you forget that.” You smirk.
Something flickers in his eyes— pride, possessiveness, and a touch of vulnerability he’d never admit to. “Damn right I’m yours,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna get soft on people.”
You lean into his hand as he caresses your cheek, a small smile playing at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, leaning down until his face is inches from yours. His voice drops to a rumble. “Carrying my child. Still standing by me. So brave.”
“Someone has to keep you in check,” you tease, though your voice softens with affection.
He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re brave enough to take my cocks after cumming like such a good brat f’me.” 
Your eyes widen, feeble hands trying to push him away by his chest, “Kuna! We have to leave, they’re probably traumatized!” You tell him in a hushed tone, suddenly all too aware that you’re in a doctor’s office for fuck’s sake.
“Yeah, well. They can afford the therapy.” He gives you a shit eating grin while thumbing open your cunt. “Open up real wide f’me, baby.”
And as you brace yourself, you remind yourself to make apology rounds to the staff whenever your husband is through with you.
༒︎ Nanami Kento ༒︎
Nanami Kento is tired. Not just the kind of tired you feel after a long day, though God knows his body aches from another grueling shift of paperwork and exorcisms. No, it’s deeper than that. A bone-deep fatigue that comes from too many hours spent away from the one person he’d rather be with. You.
He steps through the door, loosening his tie with one hand and holding his briefcase in the other. The house is warm and smells faintly like the lavender candle you always light in the evenings. It feels like home, but he quickly notices something’s off.
Your voice carries down the hall, light and warm, tinged with laughter. It’s a sound that usually has his shoulders relaxing, but tonight, there’s an edge of tension beneath it that prickles at him. He sets his things down quietly, toeing off his shoes, and listens.
“Yeah, it’s been kind of lonely lately,” you say, and he freezes in place, his hand hovering above the coat rack. “I mean, I get it. Nanamin works so hard and I love him for it, but… I don’t know. I just miss him. I feel like I barely see him anymore.”
His chest tightens. You’re talking about him. He takes a slow, measured breath and steps closer, rounding the corner silently.
“Thank you for keeping me sane, though. Honestly, if I didn’t have someone to talk to, I’d probably be climbing the walls by now.” There’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line. Gojo’s laugh. The realization is instant and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
Gojo. Of course, it’s Gojo. His coworker, the occasional thorn in the side, the most insufferable man he knows. And apparently the one you’ve been leaning on while he’s been too busy drowning in work.
Kento feels his jaw tighten, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He knows— logically, rationally— that there’s nothing going on between you and Gojo. You’d never betray him like that and Gojo, for all his teasing, would never cross that line. But the knot of jealousy twisting in his chest doesn’t care about logic.
You must have heard him shift uncomfortably because you glance over your shoulder, startled. Your expression softens when you see him and you give him a small, almost sheepish smile. “Hey, Kento just got home,” you say into the phone. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
Nanami doesn’t miss the way Gojo’s laugh sounds out one last time before you hang up. He doesn’t say anything as you set your phone on the counter, but his silence is heavy. You know him well enough to recognize it immediately.
“Ken,” you say softly, stepping toward him. “Long day?”
He hums in acknowledgment, his gaze steady on you. It’s not cold, but there’s something simmering behind it; something that makes you hesitate. “Gojo?” he asks finally, his voice calm but with an edge you can’t ignore.
You blink, caught off guard by his demeanor. “Yeah. He was just checking in. He knows I’ve been home alone a lot lately.”
“Does he?” His tone is even, but the sharpness is undeniable.
You frown, crossing your arms. “Nanami, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. Our friend. You know that.”
“I do.” And he does. He knows it’s innocent. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear you laughing and confiding in someone else while he’s been too busy to do the same.
“Ken.” Your voice softens and you reach for him, your hand brushing his arm. “Please don’t do this. Don’t beat yourself up or think anything crazy. I’m not mad at you for working so much. I know why you do it. I know it’s for us. But… it’s hard sometimes. That’s all I meant.”
“I hate that you feel like this,” he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That you have to go to someone else when I should be here.”
You step closer, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re here now,” you murmur, trying to pull him out of his head. “That’s what matters. That you always come back to me as soon as you can.”
He looks at you, something dark and conflicted in his eyes. “Is it enough?” he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Am I enough? Or would you rather have a husband who has more time for you?”
Your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice. “Kenny,” you say firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Always.”
The tension in his shoulders eases slightly and his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s hungry. Desperate. As if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent away from you in one moment.
You gasp against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to the globes of your ass and gripping tightly. When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll change for you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “No more late nights. No more overtime. I’ll cut my hours. Whatever it takes to be here with you.”
“Ken, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” His hands slide under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle as he lifts it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. “I won’t let you feel like you’re second to anything. Ever again. You’re too precious to me. My world. My heart. My wife.”
His lips find your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone. He moves with a purpose, his hands exploring your skin as if to reacquaint himself with every inch of you. It’s more than physical— it’s a promise.
You tug at his tie, fumbling with the knot until he helps you pull it free and rips off his button-down. Then his hands are on you again, guiding you toward the bedroom.
“Lay back for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding but with an undercurrent of tenderness that makes your pulse race.
You obey, sinking onto the bed as he leans over you, his lips finding yours again. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his movements careful but insistent. Every kiss, every caress feels like an apology and a vow wrapped into one.
He wraps a hang around your throat, squeezing for one fleeting moment before trailing it down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and finally under your nightgown to meet your slick riddled cunt.
“Shit,” he hisses, forehead resting against yours while he catches his breath, his fingers slipping back and forth between your folds, teasing at your clit in passes. “My love… I don’t want to waste any time, I just need t’feel you. Normally I’d ea—”
“I know, handsome, s’okay, I’m ready, I can take it.” You reassure him, knowing he was going to apologize for not properly warming you up.
You see, Nanami has always been one for foreplay. He could slurp up your saccharine slick for hours upon hours if you let him, but tonight? Tonight, he just wants to be one with you.
His hand finds one of yours and he intertwines your fingers, his other hand working to free his cock from the suffocating confines of his pants. When it springs free, it’s just throbbing an angry pink, beads of pre forming at the tip now that his dress pants aren't there to absorb them.
He aligns himself with your painfully empty hole, pushing past that first little ring of resistance with a long groan. The grip he has on your hand tightens, his knuckles turning white as he feeds you inch after mind numbing inch of his cock until his tip’s kissing your cervix. But you know his body well enough to know that isn’t it. And so you brace yourself for him to push in to the hilt, his mushroom tip ever so slightly bullying open your cervix as he does so, making you yelp out in both pleasure and pain.
His lips swallow your whines and whimpers, he’s determined to take everything you have to offer and give you more than what he has. The world, if you asked. His free hand finds purchase on your hip and he holds you steady as he starts to roll his hips into yours, passionately. Roughly. Like he’s trying to stuff you full of all of the love he has for you.
You moan out, reaching your own free hand up to cup his cheek, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back, effectively telling him you need more. With every thrust after, you can’t help but gasp. You feel him in your lungs stealing every bit of breath you have, reddened leaking tip repeatedly hitting that bullseye that makes your mind go stupid.
“K-Ken, feels s’good! Hah!” You whine out, back arching up and pressing you flush to him. He moves his hand from your hip to wrap his arm around you, effectively holding your bottom half in the air to get deeper inside of you.
“Mine. My wife. My wife, my love, my beautiful, m-my heart.” He’s babbling, burying his head into your neck and pressing hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to it. You feel him slip his hand from yours and instead, he has the top of your head in the palm of his hand, using it to keep you still, but also to anchor himself so he doesn’t let you slip through his fingers.
“You’re going to be such a beautiful mom. Wh—hah, what kind of husband have I been by not trying to give you my babies? We can start now. After I cum riiiiight here.” He babbles, his other hand moving for only a second to press down where your stomach bulges with his thrusts.
And the look in his eyes tells you this is a promise, not just something he’s saying while fucking you. Just like the perfect little thing you are, you cum for him right then, dragging a long and frustrated groan from him.
“Pussy’s always so good for me. Milking me so good, my love…” he shudders as you cum on his throbbing length.
“Ken, f—fuh— fuck! Cum in me! Please, baby, cum in me!” You beg, making him chuckle.
“Oh? You think I’m done? No, I have to make up for lost time. Evert second I missed, I’ll make up for with an equal amount of time spent buried in this beautiful cunt of yours. Understood?”
And oh are you so incredibly fucked.
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