#no smut just smooch

[7amonathursdayinoctober]

I could never write these characters properly, but if I could, I would immediately write a supper sappy fic abt Logan finding out Wade searched for him for 20(?) Years

[uhohdad]

Okay so I'm a complete SUCKER for sub!könig but we know he's a big brash military man capable of great violence but also. I wanna tear him down and build him back up. Brattame him. Gotta let steam off somehow right?

Could you do something with femdom!reader who gets könig as a client wanting to let some steam off from work and give up control for a moment and just fucking. edging and overstimming the fuck out of him. him crying from pain and pleasure. he realizes he likes being degraded... oh geez is it hot in here or-

(18+) Sub!König x FemDom!Reader

König’s leg is bouncing furiously, his knuckles white as he digs his fingernails into the arms of your lounge chair. Maybe this is one of those things that’s better in theory than it is in reality. The thought seemed… enticing, but sitting here, now, waiting for his dominatrix, his stomach is turning and his mouth is dry. He can’t help but feel embarrassed, stupid even, for being desperate enough to come here.

He’s just about to bail when he hears the commanding click of heels across tile.

König’s heart pounds in his chest, breaths thick and weighted as he struggles to work air into his lungs. He has to pinch his eyes shut, shoulders tensed in a brace as you enter.

The click of your heels still, and a few tense moments pass before König hesitantly opens his eyes, his lips pulled back in unease.

At the sight of you, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed under your chest, he chokes, his breaths ceasing.

He’s not sure where to look as you study him from top to bottom with strict eyes. Just sitting before you is putting a shake in his fingers.

You give a hum at whatever conclusion you’ve drawn in your head, and König opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of his stuttering lips.

Your heels click over to him, each slow, agonizing step making his heart pump a little faster.

The room is unbearably silent once you’ve settled between his legs, staring down at him in his seat. He feels like he’s in trouble, like he’s sitting in the principal’s office about to get his scolding. He can’t even look at you, fixated on his lap and fidgeting with his fingers.

You hum, your voice low and as smooth as honey, each word spoken slowly.

“Such a big, strong man like you. I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure that comes along with that. Is that right?”

König swallows, his eyes darting around. He still can’t look at you. He tries to work up the courage to respond, but can’t find the ability to speak, so he just nods, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’m sure there are lots of people who depend on you. Is it a heavy weight you carry on those strong shoulders?”

König’s gaze moves to the floor, and he gives a sheepish nod. His cheeks are flushed a glowing pink, an arm slung across his chest and rubbing out his opposing bicep.

A curled finger gently presses under his chin, guiding his head up. Those pretty blue eyes meet yours, wide and nervous. Your voice is strict, but gentle, that of a teacher’s when she corrects a child’s wrongdoing.

“When I ask you a question, you say - ‘Yes, Miss,’ or ‘No, Miss.’ Do you understand?”

He swallows again, his irises flicking back and forth as his gaze switches between your eyes. He nods quickly, his eyes closing as he tries to get his thoughts straight.

His voice is barely audible, words poured quickly and soaked in embarrassment, cheeks staining a shade deeper.

“Yes, Miss.”

And of course, his cock is straining against the front of his pants, his hands resting in front of himself to try and hide it from you.

“Very good,” You say.

You bend at the core, your hand grabbing the back of his chair, your pretty face inches from him, relishing in how he curls in on in himself, how his shoulders raise, how he can’t make eye contact.

“Being so powerful,” You start, your voice just a sultry whisper, “It’s a lot of responsibility, isn’t it?”

He nods, having to work up the courage to speak again.

“Yes, Miss.”

Your finger finds his jaw, to tilt his head back into position. He obediently meets your eyes.

“You want me to take over that responsibility for a little while?”

König sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes darting around your face. You’re so confident, so forward, domineering and irresistible - König can’t even think straight, his mind blank and jaw slack as he searches for his voice. When he finds it, it’s weak and stitched with a needy groan.

“Yes, Miss.”

You offer a pleased hum, studying him for a moment. You stand tall before you gracefully climb on top of him, kneeling with your legs cushioned on either side on his thighs. Slowly, you lean in, listening to the sound of his heavy breaths as he shivers beneath you. His stubble pokes and scratches your skin when you give him a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek before pressing your cheek to his. Your voice just a breathy, deep whisper in his ear.

“Have you been a good boy, baby? Or does someone need to be punished?”

Every muscle in his body tenses, and a stuttered choke catches in the back of his throat.

König can’t seem to find his words, short circuiting beneath you as you give another slow kiss on the side of his face.

You give a low hum, lips back in his ear.

“Do you need Miss to decide, baby boy?”

König gives a shaky nod. When you pull away, those pretty blue eyes are staring up at you so innocently, eagerly.

“I asked you a question,” You scold.

König’s eyes widen as he scrambles to appease you.

“Yes, Miss,” He blurts, a frantic nod accompanying.

You give a smug grin and another low hum. Your hands find tense, shaking biceps, palms sliding down the length of his strong arms. A soothing touch, slowing when you get to his wrists.

“You are a good boy, aren’t you?”

König is stunned, locked onto you, and is none the wiser when you slap a pair of heavy duty handcuffs around his wrists.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking down at his restrained hands and giving a tug to the chain connecting each cuff. When he meets your stare again, his pretty blue eyes are wide and pooled with fear.

You give a two-note laugh behind a grin.

“If you want me to take control, I can’t have you able to overpower me, can I?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“No, Miss.”

Before he knows it, König’s on the bed, stripped of his clothes and back flush with the covers, his handcuffs attached to the headboard and ankles secured tightly to the bed. His cock is stiff and swollen, flush against his stomach and leaking precum all over himself. He’s buried his face into the pillows, eyes pinched shut and whines flowing freely as you deny him the orgasm he’s been circling for hours.

“Bitte, Miss, I need it, please, please, I’ve been so good.”

König has entirely unraveled underneath you, what remains of him wrapped around your finger.

You trace a light, leisurely fingertip from the base of his cock to the tip.

“I thought that was for me to decide.”

König lets out a truly pathetic whine, the metal of his cuffs clinking as he pulls on his restraints. When you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, his entire body tenses, a huff escaping him.

You torture him with slow, teasing glides up the shaft of his aching cock, trailing your thumb around the rim of his tip with each pump. Needy whimpers leave König as his hips rut into your touch.

“Please, Please Miss.”

“Please what?”

“Bitte, Miss, Please let me come.”

You give a soft laugh, offering him a bit of relief by speeding up your glides around his cock.

König’s eyes lull before pinching shut, embarrassing, sniveling moans leaving him, his body shaking in response to your touch.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the edge again, his muscles steadily tensing and his grip on his restraints tightening.

“Bitte, Miss, please.”

He finishes on a whine, tears welling in his eyeline, his breaths sniveled and shaky.

“Mm,” You hum, “I’ll think about it.”

He lets out a sob, closing his eyes tight and sending tears streaming down his temples.

Your hands leave his cock to find his firm chest when you move to straddle him, and König lets out another whine at the absence of your touch. You take his cock again, guiding his tip through your slick arousal, listening to König trip over his own breaths.

“Feel so good, Miss. Please, Miss.”

“That’s a good boy. Tell me how much you need it.”

König whines again, tugging on his restraints as he grinds against you.

“F- Please, Miss, I need it so bad, I need you, I can’t- hn-”

König can hardly think straight, intoxicated off your power and desperate for release.

You line him up with your dripping cunt, and can’t help but lull your head as you stretch around such a thick cock.

König immediately begins to thrust his hips into you, and your hands shoot out to his sides to still him.

“If you move your hips, you’ll have to wait another round,” You warn.

“Please, I’m sorry Miss, I’ll be so good, please.”

“Good boy.”

You sink onto him carefully, swallowing his throbbing cock at a teasingly slow pace.

His moans are strained, muscles tight and trembling as he resists the urge to fuck you with everything he has.

“So tight, Miss, feels so good.”

“Mm,” You hum, a slow pace as you move up and down on his cock, swallowing a little more of him on each descent.

“Please, Miss, please.”

You’ve barely warmed up to him, but he’s already circling his orgasm, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your tight, warm cunt around him and long since aching for finish.

“Please, Miss!” He cries, more tears streaming down his face, his restraints taut with each tug against them.

When your bounces on his cock pick up speed, König’s face pinches, a pathetic moan behind the lip caught between his teeth.

“Come.”

At once, every muscle in his body contracts, eyes rolling, choking on a cry. He convulses underneath you as you work every drop of his pent-up finish from him, entirely succumb to your wet, tight cunt. When his breaths return, they’re heaving and stuttered, his cock pulsing inside you with each beat of his heart.

“Thank your Miss for letting you come.”

“Thank you, Miss, thank you.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[yanderepuck]

EYYYYY WE'RE HERE AGAIN. You're probably wondering when I'll stop. And I'm wondering that too.

But this time it's Dazai that is asleep. Hehe. I'm also going to try to keep MC fairly gender neutral in this one specifically for @ikemendrew :) bc he just LOOOVES smut. Smooch smooch love you

You wake up in the middle of the night. Your hand reaches to the side of the bed, searching for a glass of water. You grab it and sit up and finish off the glass.

You hold it in your hands for a moment while looking at Dazai beside you. A naked Dazai at that. Him sleeping naked was definitely something you had to get used to, but now it would be weird otherwise.

You set the glass back where you got it and lay back down. After a few minutes of trying to fall back to sleep you realize thirst isn't the only reason why you woke up.

You're horny. So horny that it woke you up. You couldn't say this was the first time this has happened to you. You groan into the pillow and end up tossing and turning, trying to ignore what your body wants.

Eventually you are facing Dazai. His hair is a mess, he's lightly snoring. You sit up again with a thought going through your mind.

You move the blanket off of his body, exposing him down to his legs. Yep. He's fully naked alright.

With just one finger, you drag it from the tip of his cock to the base. Going up and down to see if you get a reaction.

Not much. So you start to rub his cock with your hand. Just enough to start to get him hard. You hear groans coming from him when you stop.

You quickly get your pants off. You were telling yourself that if he wasn't going to get hard quick then you would just go back to sleep. But the odds are in your favor.

You swing a leg over him, hovering over his erection. You look down at his sleeping face wondering how he can be so hot even in his sleep.

You lower yourself down slowly, letting yourself get adjusted to his size. You bite your lip to stop the moans. You don't want to wake him up, not yet at least.

With your hands on his abs you start rocking your hips.

"Ahh...Dazai~" you were nervous about doing this at first, but now that you are filled there's no going back. Your movements get rougher and you can't help but moan.

You feel him fully harden inside you and whine.

"Fuck, you make me feel so good."

Rocking your hips wasn't enough, you started to bounce on him. You wanted to keep it quiet but you came down harder and harder each time.

Dazai started to moan more. His body squirming a bit trying to figure out what is going on. You keep getting rougher, not feeling satisfied enough.

"Ungh.. Dazai ~"

You lean down to kiss him. Taking his hands in yours, you pin them to the bed. You come down on him harder.

You start to pant but you don't plan on slowing down. Hearing his soft moans makes you want to keep going. You rest your head in the crook of his neck.

You're getting close, you can feel it, you just need a little more.

"Let me help you with that."

You start to sit up when heading Dazai's groggy voice, but he thrusts up into you before you fully can.

You feel his hands slip out from under yours and onto your hips. He holds you down onto him as he keeps thrusting into you.

Your moans get louder. You go to sit up again so that you can look at him but he rolls you two over so that you're in your back now.

"What a great way to wake up."

He lifts one of your legs and thrusts into you harder.

Your moans turn into screams for a moment as you finally cum.

Dazai doesn't slow down as you start to pant, if anything he gets rougher. His hand on your hip squeezes you enough to bruise.

"Dazai!"

"Shh. You're going to wake everyone. You already woke me up so now I get to play with you until morning~"

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @p1nkpandomium @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @faust-bite

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Silverash is a top?

Phantom is a top?

Lumen bottom

Chongyue top

Lee top

Mlynar top

Now… what both executor and enforcer?

personally, i like to think of phantom as a switch since he is willing to either top or entirely submit himself to you depending on how either of you feels. all phantom truly cares about is relishing in the feel of your skin against his and soaking up the intimacy of your bodies becoming one. but everything else i absolutely agree with ( ꈍ◡ꈍ)

as for enforcer, he radiates very soft dom/switch-leaning vibes, y'know? he doesn't mind being on top or letting you take the reigns as you ride him. enforcer is very similar in that aspect to phantom, as both very much relish in the intimacy of sex. though enforcer is a bit more willing to delve into friskier kinks, such as getting handsy in your office when your other assistants are off completing their assignments or dragging him into an empty storage room so he can blow out your backside. he's very much into somnophilia, whether it be him sinking his length into your warm body or your lips wrapped around his shaft as he groggily turns over to allow you better access to him. sleepy angel boy just likes the mornings when he gets sucked off before work <33

as for executor, that's gonna be a bit of a hard choice because, let's be honest here, he's so robotic and emotionless that just getting him into bed is a miraculous feat. he takes everything at face value, so you're going to very likely guide him throughout the whole process. his ministrations are crude, but at the very least you'll give him the credit for at least trying. but for some reason, executor has a strange fixation on oral, his mouth unrelenting as he brings you to orgasm over and over. hell, he keeps his head in between your legs for so long that you have to force him out bc you're so god-awfully overstimulated. executor's thrust game is pretty mid, so you'll have to ride him like he's your personal dildo, which he doesn't seem to mind all too much. but executor always follows your word to a fautless degree, whether you want him to sloppily fuck you or just shut up and be your living dildo. he even seems to enjoy it—well as much as his stoic face will allow.

[kindahoping4forever]

Blood Moon Lit // Ashton Irwin

Hello! Thank you to everyone who continues to engage with my masterlist and ask about my writing even though the fics have slowed down again - even as a writer, I somehow can't find the words to describe how encouraging it is. It's because of that encouragement that I've got a new fic for you today! I've been working on some longer form stuff (partly to blame for my absence) and since those projects are gonna take some time, I thought it'd be fun to sneak in a quick, light piece to tide us all over. The lunar eclipse that took place last week (sadly rained out in LA) provided a burst of inspiration and I ran with it!

As always thank you to @cal-puddies, it's more apparent than ever that I don't know how to do this without her lol

Warnings: Friends to lovers!Ash, an overabundance of flirty banter, an obnoxious amount of references to Ash's beard. A conversation about weed. Protected first time sex.Just some classic fluffy smut vibes.

Word Count: 6585

Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

“You know, according to the Farmer’s Almanac---”

“How many times do I have to tell you that’s an absurd way to begin a sentence?”

Ashton tosses a crumpled up napkin in your direction, good-natured glare on his face. “If you’re gonna invite yourself over to my house to watch the eclipse, it’s only fair that you listen to my moon anecdotes.”

“Alternate perspective: if you’re going to be offering up moon anecdotes to a captive audience, you should spice up your presentation. You’re a professional entertainer, Ash, you should understand.”

You cackle watching your friend’s face twist and contort as he struggles not to laugh at your ribbing. He scratches at his beard, aggravated and amused, and you can’t help but smile. He’s so expressive, you love getting a reaction out of him.

“Next time, you can throw your own damn eclipse party, I don’t care how lame the view at your apartment is,” he declares, knocking on the kitchen island for emphasis.

You shrug, “Lucky for me, the next lunar eclipse isn’t until 2025, so I’ve got time to find some better digs.”

“I’ve got time to find better friends,” he mutters under his breath, giggling at the sound of your offended gasp. Apparently he loves getting a reaction out of you as well.

You pout, “Aww, if you didn’t want me here, would you really have gone to this much trouble?” You hug his broad shoulders, cozying up to him, smiling at how he seems to melt against you. You gesture at the spread of snacks on the tray in front of you. “Crescent sandwiches, moon pies, Mars bars, Milky Ways…”

“Not a lot of moon specific snacks out there, had to extend the theme to the entire solar system,” he chuckles, nudging you with a pack of Starburst, gesturing for you to follow him outside.

It’s not that you invited yourself over to Ash’s tonight, it’s just that when you complained how obscured the view is at your place and he responded by mentioning how much he loves watching the moon from his garden every night… Well, that sounds like an invitation, now doesn’t it?

You trail behind him as he sets the food on a table in the backyard and pulls two bottled waters out of a nearby cooler, handing one to you.

You grab a sandwich off the tray. “Do you want to finish your almanac anecdote, buddy?” You ask sweetly as you settle in, laying across the patio couch he’s set up.  

Distracted, he pats the pockets of the button down shirt he’s wearing. “You’re only being nice to me now because I’m feeding you," he sighs.

“Well, yeah, that’s the key to most positive interactions with me. We’ve known each other for how long and you’re just realizing this?” You crack, grabbing the lighter out of your shorts pocket and tossing it to him.

Ashton snorts at your joke and bends down to light the candles on the table. You may be friends but you’re also human and can't resist noticing how well his jeans fit him, especially when pulled tight across his ass like they are right now. The sound of him dropping the lighter back onto the table stirs you from your thoughts and you tune back into the conversation.

“...So that’s why some cultures advise people not to eat during an eclipse,” he shares proudly, sitting in a chair across from you.

“Interesting,” you respond breezily, giggling as he sticks his tongue out at you, clearly able to tell you weren’t paying attention.

“Listen, I don’t see you attempting any trivia to pass the fuckin’ time,” he snarks. 

“I didn’t know there was gonna be a pop quiz, dude,” you gripe. “Besides, why are you worried about filling time anyways? If you went to the trouble of themed snacks, I know there's no way you didn't slap together a playlist."

"Ah, I have been perceived," he admits with a grin and with a few swipes of his phone, "The Killing Moon" by Echo and the Bunnymen begins pouring from the speakers just outside the house.

The eclipse begins just after midnight and the full visibility - and accompanying "blood moon" coloring - isn't due for almost another two and a half hours so the two of you vibe, snack and banter for a while, occasionally peering up at the sky and commenting on if you think the moon looks different yet or not. 

After about an hour, Ash disappears inside for a few minutes and returns holding two cups of steaming hot coffee, the pink blanket from his living room couch slung over his shoulder.

"How'd you know?" You coo, beaming up at him as he spreads the soft material over your legs.

"Because I know you," he laughs, watching as you warm your hands on the mug he just handed you. "Offered you sweats to come out here, you refused and still spent the entire time trying to yank that hoodie - which I expect back by the way - over your legs."

You defend your choice, "I like the cool air on my legs!" 

"Why is that such a girly thing? The oversized hoodie with the tiniest shorts? Like are you hot or cold? Pick one."

"Says the man who went inside to get his cozy jacket and yet hasn't thought of buttoning his shirt."

"Maybe I like the cool air on my chest," he mimics you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, is that why your nips always look ready to cut glass?"

He nearly spills his coffee laughing. "You been checkin' out my nips, baby?"

"Nah, just conscious of sharp hazards and when I should be wearing protective eyewear," you joke, ignoring the flush you involuntarily feel when he casually calls you 'baby' like that.

Ashton giggles gleefully as he turns his attention to the sky. "These clouds are making it hard to tell what's supposed to be there, eclipse-wise," he complains. He crosses over to your couch and in one easy motion, lifts your legs up and places them in his lap as he sits down. He points, "That right there? That's moving, right? Must be a cloud. But what's that next to it?"

If you're being honest, you can't see what he's talking about too well from this angle but you're not sure you're ready to move and give up the feeling of his legs warming yours, of his hands subconsciously drumming on the blanket covering you. You like feeling him close. 

"I mean… you can still kinda see light through it so it's probably cloud, yeah?" You reach for your phone to check the weather. "Damn, why is there so much coverage though, didn't you say it's not supposed to rain until the morning?"

"Yeah not ‘til like 5 or 6," he answers. He squeezes your legs. "By the way, if it starts before that, you're staying here. I don't like you driving home in the middle of the night and in a storm."

"Whatever you say, Dad." 

He scoffs, face coloring ever so slightly. “Excuse me for caring about you staying safe.”

He looks damn good when he’s embarrassed and you decide you’d like to see more. “Sorry, you’re right. Whatever you say… Daddy?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he laughs, a little too loud, a little too hard. Cheeks now an adorable shade of pink, he playfully shoves your legs off his lap. “Get outta here,” he adds for good measure.

“Rude,” you accuse, grinning as you catch yourself before you fall off the couch, adjusting your position to sit next to him. 

You steal a glance over at him as he looks upwards again: his curls messy from laying around, shirt askew and exposing a generous amount of chest, chest you know to be warm and solid and full of hair that tickles your face every time he pulls you into a hug when he’s wearing a shirt like that. He looks nice. Comfortable. Comforting. You want him closer and you’re contemplating how to achieve that when he suddenly gets up from his seat.

The disappointment that runs through you is mercifully temporary as Ash drags the cooler over in front of the couch to use as an ottoman. He plops down next to you again and stretches out, putting his feet up, sighing in satisfaction. You do the same and use the opportunity to toss the end of your blanket over him, scooting closer so that you’ll both fit under it. You rest your head on his shoulder and he doesn’t seem to mind, just like you don’t mind the designs his fingers begin tracing on your knee.

“Can I ask something?” Your voice breaks the silence. The designs stop. Interesting.

“Depends,” he says wryly. He seems nervous. You like it.

You throw him a curveball. “Are we not smoking tonight?”

He snorts, nudging your knees with his. “Take over my garden, eat my snacks, now you want my weed?”

“See, I’d argue that having someone over to literally just stare at the moon for hours implies drug use is on the agenda,” you muse. “I’d argue that Ashton Irwin having someone over to his house in general implies there’d at least be an offer.”

He pokes your side as a means of protest and you squeal in response. “Truth be told, I thought about putting a couple joints on the table but I didn’t want you falling asleep before the big show even started,” he explains, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You drop your jaw in exaggerated offense. “That’s never---”

“Your birthday, my birthday, select dinner parties, two weeks ago when we watched that movie… that one time I think we were watching the Olympics…”

“OK, OK, I get it… Jesus,” you concede, amused at how much he’s enjoying calling you out like this. “Listen, maybe if you didn’t smoke fuckin’ industrial strength weed…”

“Maybe if you’d bring your own stash every once in a while instead of just mooching off mine,” he zings back, squeezing your thigh to make sure you know he’s kidding. He lets you pout for a few beats before he adds in a notably softer voice, “I actually did go to the shop the other day and picked up some of that hybrid you told me you liked. Maybe if this goddamn moon ever does what it’s supposed to do, I’ll break out with it.” 

You offer him a fond smile. “Ya ol’ softie,” you tease, ruffling his hair. Your logic brain tries to convince you it was because you wanted to annoy him but the impulsive part of you suspects you just really wanted to touch him for some reason. 

In a move that appears to surprise even himself, Ashton closes his eyes and contentedly leans into your touch. He attempts to course correct by peering at the sky and observing, “The moon’s definitely gotten darker… but that storm really looks like it’s moving in quicker than they said it would, there’s even more clouds than before.”

“Gonna be such a waste if we can’t even see the blood moon after all this,” you comment.

“Ouch, I’m having fun hanging out with you too,” he cracks, nudging you with his knees again. You don’t think his body has been out of contact with yours since he sat back down. Interesting. 

You bump his shoulders with yours. “So fucking sensitive,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Like I probably wouldn’t have been hanging here tonight anyways.”

“That’s true,” he agrees. “You’d definitely already be asleep on my couch by now.”

“Oh my god, Ash, I do not pass out here that often!”

“Why’d you think I served you a giant cup of coffee at 1 AM?” 

“You’re actually the worst person I know, congratulations.”

“Just figure you took the whole ‘make yourself at home’ thing a bit too literally.”

You turn to stare daggers at him and the resulting burst of laughter he lets out is so intense it echoes into the night.

“As if I'd be able to fall asleep out here anyways, I’m fucking freezing,” you grumble. He takes a breath to respond but you cut him off. “And I know it’s my fault for not borrowing the sweatpants, we’re all aware, the media will be calling for comment in the morning.”

His laughter continues and though you’re committed to your performance as a pitiful, mocked guest, watching him react to your plight is so endearing, you’re having a hard time keeping a straight face yourself.

He finally stops long enough to gasp out some breaths and wipe his eyes. “Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” he says, somewhat sincerely, though you can still detect a faint chuckle in his voice. He tries again. “You’re still cold, though, for real?”

“Yeah, dude, the temperature’s had to have dropped at least ten degrees since we’ve been out here.”

You’ve barely gotten through half of your sentence before Ash is pulling your body closer, laying your head on his chest, tucking you inside his jacket and wrapping his arms around you. “How’s that?” He asks, vigorously rubbing your arm.

“Um…” Your mind is blank and suddenly you swear you’ve never had a thought in your life, the concept of language is entirely outside of your grasp. All you know is you wanted him close and now Ashton is literally all around you. You take a deep breath to reset your mind but it only makes things worse, he smells incredible.

He reads your stammering negatively and starts rambling, "I thought about setting up that little fire pit for us but I didn't want to light things up too much and take away from the view." He continues fussing over you, holding you tighter. "I could see if I can do it real quick…"

“No, Ash… it’s fine, I’m fine,” you quickly insist, unwilling to give up this embrace for any reason. Trying to play it cool, you quip, “Plus it’s getting late, can’t have me getting too cozy, anyways.”

Your humorous sidestep provides enough of a misdirect and the two of you lay in comfortable silence for a bit. It’s long enough for you to finally relax into him and start thinking about how nice and natural this feels, how you kind of want him on you like this all the time, how you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt this warm and content or if you’ll ever feel this way again. 

Unfortunately it’s also long enough for you to start overthinking things and now you’re wondering if he can feel how fast your heart is beating, if he’s noticed all the subtle breaths you’ve been forcing yourself to take. You pause. OK, his heart feels like it’s beating pretty fast too. Wait. Really? Shit, thinking about his heart beating fast is making yours beat even faster now. The fuck?

He’s not… you’re not… right? You’re obviously aware that Ashton is an attractive man. Super charming. Thoughtful. Caring. And yeah, you get along great. He understands you, listens to you, confides in you. Sure, you have chemistry. All friends do, don’t they? 

He senses that something’s up with you and you swear you’ve never felt anything as intense as his hand squeezing your shoulder as he quietly asks, “You OK?”

You look up at him… since when is he this gorgeous? The sleepy smile on his face, creating deep dimples in his cheeks and friendly crinkles around his eyes, eyes filled with equal parts curiosity and concern for what’s going on with you. The dark beard on his face draws attention to his perfectly pink lips, lips that he nervously licks and catches between his teeth while he waits to hear what you have to say. Lips that you’re definitely staring at now. Lips that you’ve never given this much intentional thought to. Ashton’s lips. Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” you nod, tearing your eyes away from his suddenly irresistible features. Desperate to distract yourself from your thoughts, you ask, “Got any more moon anecdotes for us?”

“Pfftt, why? So you can make fun of me some more?” He replies pitifully, jutting out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

Those goddamn lips. Fuck.

"It was a genuine question!” You sit up and train your eyes on the clouds, figuring it’s best not to look at the man sitting next to you until you figure out exactly what your brain is doing. “Might as well learn something while we wait.”

He giggles, “Ah, ‘might as well.’ My favorite conversation prompt!” You jab at him and he giggles harder. “I dunno, what kind of anecdotes do you want? You clearly thought my almanac shit was lame.”

You laugh, “Because it matters so much what I think?” The tiny shrug he gives in response gives you a butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your brain needs a channel change ASAP. “Give me some of your hippie dippie anecdotes. Like, we know why the moon is doing this but what does it mean?” 

Ash grins. “You’re still making fun of me but I’ll allow it.” He purses his lips and strokes his beard while he thinks of what topic to present to you. “Well… you know all eclipses can be considered symbolic, spiritual events.”

“Sure, everyone knows that.”

He squints, unsure whether or not you’re being serious but unphased regardless. “But did you know that emotionally a lunar eclipse is about three times more powerful than a solar one?”

“Oh?”

“You seriously want to know?” He asks, looking you over in a way you’re assuming is meant to be playfully skeptical but makes you feel flushed nonetheless.

Your laughs blend together as you elbow his side. “Yes, you weirdo! You’ve been trying all night to tell me about the moon, now’s your shot!”

He begins explaining this theory, animatedly detailing bits of ancient mythology for context. You listen with genuine intent but you also find yourself focusing on the way he’s talking to you, the excitement behind his eyes as he shares his knowledge, how he uses his hands to punctuate his ideas. Have his hands always been so large and attention grabbing? You try to zero in on his words but unfortunately, that brings you back to his lips, which are wrapping around every word he says in the most inviting way.

In an effort to remove the visual conundrum of Ashton entirely, you lay against him again. Without breaking his train of thought, he recalibrates, arms coming back to gently cradle you, voice dropping to a softer tone. “...So it’s basically like you’re getting all the effects from a full moon and an eclipse all at once,” he summarizes. 

“Oh, I guess I never thought of it like that before,” you think out loud. You smile because you practically hear him buzzing at your interest. “Both of those events are already centered around transformation, so combined that’s a lot of energy being put towards change.”

“Mmm hmm. And this one’s a blood moon too, which also fits that theme.”

“I thought a blood moon was more like… destruction. Chaos. That’s why those tattoos of yours make so much sense,” you tease.

He cackles loudly. “Can’t give a guy a break for one second!” You look up to flash him an innocent smile and he affectionately rolls his eyes before going back to the conversation. “It can mean those things. But I’d say those are forms of change, right? And it can also symbolize rebirth, which is change.”

“True.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he launches into his next idea. “I really like how it all works together to form a bigger conversation about exploration, evolution.” He waits for the inquisitive glance he knows is coming from you and when you deliver, he continues. “So a full moon is full so that’s an opportunity to think on what you’re grateful for, the fullness in your life, right? But you can also use those feelings to set your intentions by the full moon, what you want your next phase to contain. Evolution.”

“OK…” You nod.

Fuck.

“And then an eclipse is a harbinger for change… could be an ending, could be a beginning.”

“Could be both,” you point out.

He squeezes you encouragingly. “Exactly! And then the blood moon is interesting because it’s, you know, refracted sunlight - literally light shining through the darkness. So that’s connected to intentions hidden below the surface…” He pauses long enough that you look up to see why he stopped talking and he locks eyes with you. “Evolving something you maybe thought you were already content with… or exploring wants and desires you didn’t even know were there.”

You trust your face to remain neutral while your mind races. Evolving something? Exploring wants and desires? It’s all a bit too on the nose… maybe you’re reading too much into things, looking for excuses to be feeling the way you’re feeling, thinking what you’re thinking. But the way he looked at you when he said that… you’ve never been smoldered at before but hey, apparently every aspect of tonight’s moon is super gung ho about new experiences so why not?

Ash holds your gaze, looking at you somehow both patiently and expectantly as he waits for the conversation to continue. Your logic brain and your impulse brain have differing ideas on what an appropriate response would be so you buy yourself some time. 

"I mean… I think there's definitely something to all that but it also seems like a good opportunity for people to be reckless and then just blame it on the moon if it doesn't go the way they wanted."

Soft smile on his face, he shrugs. “I don’t know if it really matters to be honest, whether it’s an actual influence or just helps you frame your perceptions differently? Maybe that safety net of ‘the moon made me do it’ gives people the courage they need to act on feelings they felt they couldn’t otherwise.” His eyes stay fixed on you while he speaks. “Doesn’t make their actions any less valid. Inspiration is still inspiration.”

Fuck. 

He definitely just snuck a peek at your lips.

Fuck.

Logic brain and impulse brain are arguing louder than ever… but curiosity brain decides to drown them both out and you find yourself coyly replying, “Well then… are you feeling inspired tonight, Ash?”

The corners of his mouth curl into something more teasing than a smile but softer than a smirk. His fingers brush along your jaw before hooking under your chin to tilt your head towards him. 

Fuck. This is really happening.

You're not sure what's louder: the voice in your head screaming excited obscenities at you, your shallow, shuddered breathing or your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You lean in to meet Ashton halfway and his lips finally brush against yours. Those lips. Ashton’s lips. They're softer than you expected and sweet, still faintly tasting of the desserts you shared earlier. His lips are undemanding, applying gentle pressure, moving slowly, unrushed. The kiss is commanding but cautious. Persuasive but respectful. Simultaneously a screaming exclamation and a tentative question, both eagerly awaiting your response.

You expect your brain to be bombarding you with a million questions and concerns but you're stunned to hear… nothing. No racing thoughts, no self-conscious reprimands. Your mind has suddenly found peace, content to be exploring… whatever this is.

You eventually break apart and he studies your face, clearly trying to gauge your reaction to this unexpected territory. Your brain doesn’t offer up any coherent thoughts, let alone words to say, so you pull him back in, opting to let your lips silently share with him how you’re feeling. He lets out a satisfied hum against you, reciprocating your energy and your mouths move together frantically, your skin tingling both from excitement and from the friction of his beard.

Without even realizing you're moving, your hands tangle in his curls, pulling him closer as your tongue swipes over his lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. His hands settle on the back of your neck, thumbs lightly stroking your cheeks as he accepts your invitation to finally kiss you with the full force of his passion. 

The next time you break for air, you waste no time in adjusting the blanket so that you have room to straddle his lap. He delightedly chuckles your name as you settle on top of him.

“This feels like one of those reckless things you were talking about,” he teases, running his hands up and down your sides.

“Mmm hmm,” you lilt, leaning in to peck along his jaw on your way to tongue at his earring, an idea you’ve been fixated on for most of the evening. 

He groans deliciously as you catch the tiny hoop between your teeth, giving it a light tug before you move your attention back to his lips. “Do we need to take a beat and think this through?” He asks before capturing your face between his hands and planting his most heated series of kisses yet.

You shiver at the way he caresses your cheeks, at the realization that his hands are large enough to cover basically your entire face; Ashton assumes you’re trembling from the cold and pulls away to reposition the blanket around your shoulders. “Oh, this is clearly a huge mistake,” you answer, tone unconcerned as you run your fingers through the chest hair peeking out from his shirt.

He giggles, ticklish at your touch, as he brings you back in. “Definitely in ‘ruining the friendship’ territory,” he laments with a grin. 

“Irreparable damage being done,” you agree, smiling back, closing the space between you. The kisses seem to increase in intensity each time you break apart and come together again and you soon hear yourself murmuring at the feeling of his hands giving your ass a light squeeze. You roll your hips in response and can’t help whimpering again when you find him half hard beneath you. Ash. Hard for you.

You never considered yourself a greedy person but the more you make out with Ash, the more you’re fascinated by it. It’s satisfying, it’s electrifying, it’s… Ash. You want to feel everything he has to offer, you want to feel him everywhere, you want to feel overwhelmed by him. More. You just need to feel more. More of Ash.

“Do you care?” He asks, gently tugging your hair back so he can nip at your neck.

“About destroying our relationship?” You joke breathily as his beard scratches at your tender skin. You grind in his lap a little more and the groan he gives you in return makes you feel lightheaded. “The better question is: if we’re gonna do something foolish, how stupid do we want to be?”

Ashton bucks his hips against you and you moan, louder than you mean to. He licks his lips hungrily before replying, “I mean… I have no problem admitting I’m having some pretty dumbass thoughts tonight.”

“Just tonight?” You giggle, squealing as he playfully tosses you onto the couch to lay on your back, slotting himself between your legs. His mouth attaches to your neck again while his hands slip under the hem of your sweatshirt, fingertips chilly against your skin, a pleasantly surprised hum escaping him when he grazes your bare breast. “Wanted to be comfy,” you shrug, arching your back to encourage him to keep touching you. 

His large hands wander on your body, unlocking a newfound level of desire for you and the urgency with which you kiss him is a testament to that. You writhe under him, mewling at the way his hardness feels against you. He grins against your lips, hand traveling down to play with the hem of your shorts. “I know my answer but how stupid do you want to be?”

You watch him closely as you guide him under your shorts, pressing his hand to your clothed center, letting him feel the heat between your legs, the wet spot that’s been forming since he sat down next to you. He meets your challenge and pushes your panties aside; he curses under his breath as he drags his fingers through your arousal, swirling light circles on your clit, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

“Mmm… Ash…”

“Yeah? Like that?” He rasps, clearly affected by watching you react to his touch.

You nod, gently pressing on his hand to receive slightly more pressure. Your head spins at how intimate it is to look directly into his eyes as he pleasures you, to feel so completely seen as you moan for him. It’s got you feeling needy and you pull him back up to your lips, seeking more connection with him.

His teeth nip at your bottom lip, fingers still teasing when he breaks the kiss, groaning into your mouth, “So wet.” He raises his fingers to his mouth, noisily sucking his fingers clean. You pant beneath him, restless, and he asks in an earnest, strained voice, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

It’s a simple request and yet one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. “Wanna be so… so fuckin’ stupid with you.” You reach to palm him through his jeans. "Think you can run inside and grab a condom before we talk some sense into ourselves?"

Ash grins as he plants an impassioned kiss on you before taking off for the house. You make the couch more comfortable, putting a pillow for your head at one end and spreading the blanket out at the other, ready for you to crawl under. You're shimmying out of your shorts and underwear when he reappears, protection in hand.

"Afraid I was gonna change my mind that quickly?" You joke, wincing at the cold air on your naked bottom half as you toss your clothes aside.

He snorts and gestures to the room you entered the patio from. "I had some condoms in the den, so."

"Oh my god, are you one of those guys that keeps condoms in every room of the house 'just in case'?" You smirk at him as you lay back down. You take his slightly exasperated sigh as your answer and you can't fight the urge to tease further, coughing out a quiet, "Whore."

"And yet I'm not the one pantsless in some dude's backyard at 2 AM," he teases back, lightly slapping your ass as he covers you with the blanket. 

He sits at the end of the couch, helping you get situated before stripping himself. You love the spontaneity of the situation but you have to admit you wish you could see him better; your imagination is going wild as the late night darkness seems to amplify the smack of his cock hitting his stomach, the hiss he lets out as he strokes himself before rolling the condom on.

You hold the blanket open for him to climb inside and on top of you again. He smiles softly at you, offering a slow kiss as one hand slips under your sweater again, the other between your legs. His tongue teases yours, licking into your mouth with precision while his fingers play over your clit and you start to wonder what it’d be like to feel his tongue on your pussy instead, his beard scraping against your inner thighs, your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing and pulling to where you need him most.

The fantasy elicits a moan from you and Ashton takes that as a prompt. He asks quietly, “Ready?" You nod, pecking at his lips once more as you feel his tip nudging at your entrance. He begins to push in and your groans mix together in a sensual harmony.

“Oh… holy fuck, Ash,” you sputter, gripping at his shoulders as he continues to slide in. Everything about Ash is big so you can’t say you’re surprised but the stretch you’re feeling is unlike anything you’ve experienced and you’re immediately craving more.

He pauses to check in with you. “You alright?”

“Mmm hmm,” you exhale, playing with the curls at the back of his neck. You crack, “Lotta things about your personality are just suddenly making a lot of sense right now.”

He giggles and rolls his eyes. “You really making digs at me while I’m inside you?”

“You know I like to keep you humble.”

He bottoms out and you moan together; he leans down, his beard tickling you as he sucks a mark onto your neck. You trace along the seam of his jacket, appreciating the moment to adjust, until you start to get impatient and try rocking yourself against him.

You feel him smile against your skin. “Easy,” he rasps, holding your hips still as he slowly starts to move inside you.

“Oh my god, that was sexy… don’t be sexy, that’s too confusing for me,” you ramble playfully.

He laughs loudly. “‘Don’t be sexy?’ We’re literally having sex.”

“I know but like… it’s us. Don’t you think it’s weird for it to be this hot?”

“No?” He replies with a hint of incredulity. He curses under his breath as he increases his pace a little. “Haven’t you ever thought about this before?”

“Not really?” You think out loud, noting that he almost looks disappointed at your admission. “I mean it’s probably crossed my mind in an abstract sense but not in a ‘that’s something I actively want to happen, that’s something that could happen’ sense.”

Ash hooks one of your legs around his hip and you breathe out a tiny ohmygod at his next thrust that makes him smirk. “Interesting.”

“So I take it you’ve thought about this before?”

“Not in an ‘actively wanting it to happen’ way but more in a ‘that could definitely be fun’ way,” he shrugs. He grinds his hips into you and the friction on your clit causes you to whimper. “Gotta admit I have spent a bit of time wondering what that sound would be like.”

"Godddd why is that hot?" You whine, rolling your hips to match his movements. 

He half-chuckles, half-moans as you move together. "Hate to be the one to break it to you but… there's a possibility you might be attracted to me."

"No, that can't be it," you jokingly dismiss, pulling him down into a heated kiss.

You fuck back against him with greater force and he gasps your name. "Fuck…" He huffs, already sounding spent. "You feel… so fuckin' good around me… Takin’ it so well."

His praise goes straight to your core and you grab at his back, loving the way he feels on top of you but wishing you could feel his skin instead of his coat. Your brain suggests maybe next time but you push the thought aside.

"Never felt so full before," you admit with heavy breath. "God… can’t believe it feels this good. You’re making me feel so good, Ash.”

You wrap both your legs around his waist and the new angle instantly gets an audibly enthusiastic reaction from both of you. The shift allows him to drive into you faster, harder, deeper and Ash can tell from all your tiny whines, heated moans and revelatory sighs of his name that you’re well on your way to getting what you need.

“Love hearing you,” he groans, voice straining as he tries to keep control. “You make my name sound so good, baby.”

Your brain decides that hearing him call you ‘baby’ in this context is somehow the most erotic thing that’s ever happened and you give a long whimper as you slide your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, chasing the orgasm you can feel sparking deep within. 

You feel him hesitate slightly, as if he’s wondering if he should help you out. “Keep… perfect… just like that,” you murmur, grabbing his ass, pulling him closer to you. “So… so close… oh god, Ash…”

“That’s so fucking hot, oh my god,” he pants, watching you touch yourself while he fucks you. “Working so hard for it, baby… gonna cum for me? Gonna let me feel it? Wanna feel it so bad, baby, wanna feel you cum.”

A strangled cry escapes your throat as your orgasm crests and you begin pulsing around him. You gasp and moan, the waves of pleasure washing over you again and again as he continues snapping his hips into you. You hear a variety of profanities followed by a long groan of your name before Ash’s hips stutter and he cums with a shout.

There’s a few solid beats where it’s clear neither of you know how to proceed, what the immediate afterglow should look like. He’s awkwardly hovering above you, head hanging down, arms slightly quivering as he fights the urge to collapse from exhaustion.

“Well, no reason to get shy now,” you declare, pulling him to lay on top of you, rubbing his back while he catches his breath.

He laughs warmly, allowing himself to settle for a minute before raising up and asking quietly, “Can I kiss you?”

It’s a silly question, considering you’re both still naked from the waist down, but for once, your instinct isn’t to make a joke.

You hold his face in your hands as you pull him in and the kiss you share is representative of the encounter you just shared: sweet, surprisingly erotic and appreciative of each other’s presence.

Smiles decorate both your faces as you break apart. He sits up and reaches for the stack of napkins on the table, handing you a few as he ties off the condom and wraps it in one. You’re almost done cleaning yourself up when you hear him chuckling to himself and look over to see him squinting at the sky. Before you get the chance to ask what he’s laughing at, you jump at the feeling of a stray raindrop landing on your thigh. 

“You’re kidding,” you gasp, taking a look at the sky yourself. “Where’d the fucking moon go?!”

He grins, standing to slip his pants on. “Can’t really be mad that we got distracted and missed the rise of the blood moon - seems like it was probably never visible to us because of these rain clouds.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you grumble, getting dressed so you can help Ash clean up the table. You think for a second and then laugh, “How long until you tell me what the rain symbolizes?”

Ashton giggles, playfully bumping into you as he grabs the blanket to take inside. “It’s not dissimilar from the eclipse, actually. Lots of introspection, mindfulness. Beginnings. Contrasts between light and darkness, the acknowledged and unspoken truths.”

“Soooo… what I’m hearing is we have an excuse for this to happen again,” you flirt as you head for the house.

You feel his eyes lingering on you before he springs into action, quickly catching up and opening the door for you. “Liked it that much, huh?” He teases. “Already ready for more?”

Ignoring the blush you feel spreading through you, you continue towards the kitchen. “I’m just saying, you already insisted I sleep over if the rain started, which it has,” you reason. You set the dishes down and spin around to face him. “And there are worse ways to spend our time.”

He nods, giving exaggerated consideration to your points as he inches closer to you. “Well… who are we to fight against nature?” He smirks, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter.

---------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! I'm no longer in the habit of using a taglist so more than ever, these fics live and die by reblogs! If you enjoyed please consider sharing so it can circulate and be seen by other readers!

[mikichko]

(I’m mixing two things I saw on tiktok that I adored and thought would be so cute)

Adoptive parents Simon and Johnny come in one pruning and find out that teacher reader starts the day with that mother moon song “I love my body from my head to my toes, I love face: my eyes, my mouth, my nose. I love who I see when I look in the mirror, I stand a lil closer just to see a lil clearer. Who is that? It’s me! And I am looking good as good can be. So what do we say, we tell ourselves ‘I love myself in every single way’”. Before doing some affirmations (“are we brave?” Kids: “yes!” “Are we strong?” “Yes” “are we gonna do our best to get along?” “Yes!” “Are we loved?” “Yes!” “Are we precious?” “Yes!” “Do we know doing our best is the best-est?” “Yes!!” “Then we are gonna have a great day!!”) and Zachy is there and the kids are including him and the reader even pokes his nose during the song to make him smile and know she means him and it’s so sweet that the two SAS soldiers have to take a second to collect themselves because they are so thankful that their boy has you in his life

ding ding ding!!!! you hit the nail on the head nonnie!

the thing about teacher!reader is that everything in their classroom is done with intent. they're more than aware of what happens to kids whose personalities are beaten down and broken. they know the kind of adults they become, the different paths of misery that leads to, and just how much work goes into undoing that. they've had to do it themselves.

part of the reason they became a teacher was because of how impactful their teachers were to them when they were younger. so they vow that in their classroom they would enact rules and practices to make sure that their kids, yes those are their kids, can develop proper confidence, emotional intelligence, and the skills to be able to voice their emotions. cause these are not things that are inherent and I speak from personal experience when I tell you that not knowing how you feel or being emotionally numb is horrible.

so it's only natural that they start the day with 'i love my body'. and of course, she pays extra close attention to zach, all this poor baby's been hearing is that his body is violent and unstable. that poor boy does not deserve to internalize it. she always pokes his nose on the second go around, where the song is much faster and the kids are giggling getting their wiggles all out.

i also think that affirmations aren't just a classroom thing but an at-home thing. johnny started affirmations first, just because he could see how unsure his boy was in his own skin. he wanted him to be more confident in himself and what better way than to do that while getting ready with his papa in the morning??? I'm going to write an entire chapter (??? idk what to call it . it's all coming out of order) on this and a little bit of insight on zach's life before being adopted so stay tuned :D

apologies for answering your asks backward nonnie. week's been a mess and I have not had a single coherent train of thought at all.a as so graciously shown through this ask!! but hopefully, the week is easing up and I can start to work on these again!

[gothsuguru]

ooooh you know what i might do as a personal goal… jjk smut drabbles for october, cult leader geto fic for november, and satoru winter fluff fic for december :3

[mxanigel]

breaking out the tension tamer herbal tea on this fine second day of the year because my brain r e f u s e s to focus on work

[spreadwardiard]

I just have a lot of au tfp megop feels today (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Maybe one days I will br brave enough ti throw my headcanons out there. I'm from a tike where Tumblr was toxic as hell and I'm just... not used to this chill vibe the site seems to have now yet enough to talk about things too deeply unless asked but I have so many thoughts and feelings just bubbling in my chest that I don't ever really explore. I hate how shyyyy I am.

But like shit I waaant to talk about it I hate how insecure I am about my thoughts. Anyway I been trying to write more fic lately but really been struggling with motivation and pretty sure executive disfunction. Soon I hope I will be able to write again. I miss writing smut so bad but I can't get passed my openers siiigh

[here2bbtstrash]

i will slay your demons* with my bare hands!!

*rude anons in ur inbox

- a shy anon whose been a fan of your work for quite a while 💜

omg 🥺 hi beeb!! i appreciate you for taking the time to leave a sweet note and i'm so glad you're enjoying the porn lmaoooo 💜 thank you for being here!!

[w1redsmile]

one more ask then im mobile for the night

[gothsuguru]

I just read black is the color of my true loves hair and I am SCREAMING AND FROTHING

I HAVE TO KNOW HOW HE AND MC MET. IT SOUNDS SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME.

Especially how u preluded it......... turning someone who sleeps around into a soft devoted boy is my favorite meal ♡♡♡

THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST SWEETEST ASK TO WAKE UP TO I’M CRYING THANK YOU FOR READING that fic is my absolute beloved <333

AND AHHHHH DID YOU KNOW THAT I WAS THINKING ABT WRITING THE PREQUEL FIC (HOW THEY MET) YESTERDAY??? are you in my brain anon omfg…

JUST BC OF YOU I’LL BE STARTING ON OUTLINING IT SOON! (hopefully i get inspo on actual writing but i have some of the storyline down!) <333

as a lil treat for You my beloved… i’ll give you a smooch <3 also suguru’s tattoo parlor is called uzumaki 🤭 i may show parts of his time sleeping around but i think by the time they met he had his own tattoo parlor? I’M NOT EVEN SURE ANYMORE I HAVE TO REREAD MY OWN FIC NOW TO MAKE SURE NFNFNFNFNFNF 😭 but yes they ARE both so devoted and soft <333 wholesome sometimes but feral little demons in love the other <333

i love you so much thank you for sending me this <3 what a wonderful thing to wake up to :’) ILYSM :D i’ll get started on it soon just for you! <3

(also dear anon idk if you’ll see this but lmk what stuff you want me to put in the fic as a treat for you! if it works well w the story i’ll see what i can do :D)

(a treat for you anon these texts killed me) ^^^ the way their relationship in “black is the color of my true love’s hair” works btw reader is in grey and suguru is in blue 🤭

[satorena]

( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?

bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )

content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).

rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)

“gimme a kiss.”

your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.

his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”

you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”

you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”

you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.

he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”

oh. . . oh.

the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.

“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.

you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?

he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.

he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”

the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.

you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”

and the front door closes. damn.

☆ ☆

“you said what?!”

gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”

he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.

“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”

“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”

“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.

“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”

“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”

the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”

gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.

“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”

and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.

“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”

“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”

something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.

“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”

“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”

“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”

and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”

“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”

“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”

☆ ☆

so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.

and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.

he was still in the clear. whew.

and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.

he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.

he misses you, damn it.

there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.

if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)

he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.

well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”

you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.

he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”

“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?

“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”

“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.

“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”

ohhh, you cheeky brat.

“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”

“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”

“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.

suguru was right— he does love a challenge.

“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”

huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”

you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.

if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.

god, he thinks he’s in love.

☆ ☆

gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.

“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.

his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.

he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.

“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”

he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.

he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.

gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.

gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.

before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.

he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.

and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.

“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?

☆ ☆

he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.

he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.

it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.

“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”

“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.

“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”

“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”

he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.

a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”

“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”

“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.

“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”

“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?

he grabs his keys and slams his door close.

☆ ☆

you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.

“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?

“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”

“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”

gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”

“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”

“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.

your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.

“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”

“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.

your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.

“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.

“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”

when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”

you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.

“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.

he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.

he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”

you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.

gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.

your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”

“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”

“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”

“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”

“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”

he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.

and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.

your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.

“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”

“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.

gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.

he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”

“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”

the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.

“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.

so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.

he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.

he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.

“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”

keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.

“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”

when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.

“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.

he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.

you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.

so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.

it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.

his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.

he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,

“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”

gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)

[lokissweater]

DON’T HAVE TO GUESS

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta is the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this earth. one problem though? he refuses to touch you out of fear of making you uncomfortable or disrespecting you (no matter how bad he wants it). your pent up sexual frustration is at an all time high and you’re sick of him rejecting your advances, so you devise a plan to get him to crack.

content: MDNI. FILTHY SMUT, smut with plot, established relationship, afab!reader, pet names, references to alcohol and drinking, college party, cursing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), dirty talk, FERAL YUTA, oral, creampie, yuta is down bad for you.

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: theming inspired by charli xcx ft. miss billie eilish’s song “guess” !! MWAH.

if you would like to know the origin story of this au, you can read it here! but it can also be read without it :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

yuta felt like an absolute freak.

ever since you both officially became a couple, he’s been the absolute happiest man alive and never ever goes a day without showering you with affection, kisses, and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

but behind that? yuta has a little secret.

and he is gnawing at the iron bars of his enclosure in absolute torture every time you do something, anything, that can get his little horn dog mind to imagine you in thirty five different positions on his bed crying out for him.

it doesn’t even have to be something you do that remotely resembles anything sexual, so on a day where you were sitting pretty beside him in the passenger seat of his car, the blood rushing to his dick at the sight of the seatbelt strap pushing in between your puffy boobs—

he knew it was bad.

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

taglist <3: @turtlesaee @heretoreadfics

[chuluoyi]

✎ mission: baby steps !

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

genre: full crack, dad!gojo being a sore loser, your baby being mean (he only wants peace, really), and obviously, fluff !!

note: a little thing for father's day ehe <3 i know i said i'll work on smut in the polls next but uhhh, this comes first ok?! :') i just love the idea of gojo vs baby don't mind me *sobs* and all the scenario here come from the tiktok/reels you've sent me!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

There are many things that come with being a jujutsu sorcerer, and when you are Gojo Satoru, those things seem to be multiplying like bunnies.

This essentially means less time with his wife and baby. Look, he could finish missions fast, but when sent to other cities, even he couldn't abuse his teleportation powers all the time to return to Tokyo.

And so, as much as he hated it, he couldn't fault his baby boy for forgetting him.

"Look, it's papa," you rocked your son with a smile, consoling him as he wailed right after Satoru held him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Papa just got back from a long mission, he's not scary!"

"Is he scared of me?" Ouch. The thought prickled him. It somehow felt sourer than seeing Principal Gakuganji's face.

You hummed, seemingly (or comically?) deep in thought. "Hmm, in baby's point of view: a big, bad man suddenly picks him up, of course he's scared."

"I'm not a bad man!"

Okay, he wasn't having this. Satoru adored his baby to bits and he would want him to at least know it. It's settled then—he would be taking paid leave just to spend some time with his baby.

This would be his mission for the next three days!

DAY ONE

The day started off great. Baby Gojo was relatively calm, a bit fussy here and there but Satoru could definitely handle him.

"Look, a plane is coming!" he said playfully, moving the spoon in the air to attract his baby's attention. "Open your mouth wide!"

Baby blinked at him with the straightest face ever. His two blue orbs were the very same as his father, and yet they held disinterest so great that it was a wonder Satoru didn't notice.

He then playfully smooched baby's face, but he scrunched up, cringing in response.

And later, another achievement unlocked: Satoru successfully got his son to sleep for his afternoon nap!

"You're so cute, sigh." Satoru poked his baby's cheek lightly. "You look like me, but when you sleep, you totally look like your mama..."

He might not say it out loud, but one of his favorite sights lately was seeing you sleep next to your son. Both of you looked so precious and vulnerable, so alike, and it made him warm.

And whenever he looked at this little creation between you and him, he also got the urge to poke him so bad.

So he did. Only this time, he poked him a little too hard.

And how wrong that move was.

His son immediately cracked his eyes open, his lips quivered, and then his whole face scrunched up, followed by—

"WAAA!"

"Oof! Wait— I'm sorry!"

Long story short, he refused to be held in Satoru's arms, so you took over and your husband could only watch you with dissatisfaction.

"Won't you let me hold you?" he asked despondently, pulling up a pitiful face and batting his eyelashes. "I have the warmest hugs! Mama can vouch for that!"

"Satoru, he doesn't want you."

DAY ONE RESULT : FAILED

DAY TWO

Okay, his baby would love him today. Satoru was sure of it.

He had ordered this baby ride-on toy via home shopping and not only that, he would play with him!

"Here we goo~! Honk! Honk!" Satoru steered the little vehicle with his son at the backseat, hyping him up and even made a weird sound that was supposed to resemble a... train?

You watched them both, giggling. Your husband looked positively ridiculous as he was too big for the small vehicle, but still persisted in entertaining your clueless baby behind him. "Oh my, Satoru, you're trying way too hard."

"I have to!" he retorted, sending pout and a glare at the same time. "You can't hog him all the time, he's my son too!"

"Well, good luck~ as it happens, your spawn isn't easy to impress."

"Just so you wait—!" Satoru begrudgingly shot you a look, eaten up by your taunts, not noticing the wall in front of him. "By the end of today, he'll— whoaaa!"

He was about to crash into the said wall, and you were prepared to jump to save your baby first. But then, Satoru did the next best thing to stop it—jumping out of the ride-on, rolling onto the floor... and crashing into the bookshelf that some of the things fell. "Ow!"

"Are you okay!?" you immediately picked up your baby before checking him over. However, Satoru's eyes were transfixed on your shared munchkin.

"Meh heh~"

And you too when you heard it— your baby was wiggling, all smiles, seemingly amused by the sight of his papa lying there pitifully. Satoru was aghast.

"Y-you have no filial piety!"

DAY TWO RESULT : FAILED

DAY THREE

Today, Satoru had gotten inside the playpen and brought a bunch of toys, planning to entertain his son with all of them.

"C'mon, don't throw that!" he pursed his lips when his kid flung the lego away. "Don't you want to play together with me?"

No. As if saying that, the baby crawled away from him. He seemed to have a target in mind though.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Satoru was puzzled, but he was in for a surprise when the child rose slowly.

"Oh, you're pushing yourself up..." he stated, observing how the baby, still wobbly, clutched on the edge of his playpen for support.

A huge grin spread across his face then. "Aww, look at you!" he gushed with pride. "You can stand already! Ooh!"

And suddenly, the sight tugged at his heartstrings. This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a milestone. He wasn't here when he first started teething or crawling, and now that he was here when his son was standing... he wanted to see more of this.

"Now, can you take a step?" Satoru moved closer to him, and the kid turned to him with those clear blue eyes and a little frown, seemingly unsure. "Go! Go! Come to me!"

He didn't think he would actually try to walk. But he did as baby let go of the support, alas suddenly he slipped—

And fell flat on his face.

"—! Are you hurt?!" Satoru immediately plucked him off the floor, horrified, and pulled him close when the baby started to sniffle. Soon, he began to wail inconsolably.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but seeing his baby so frightened made his chest tighten. "Stop crying, oh wait—let's find mama!"

You were engrossed in your evening TV series when Satoru came barging to the living room with your poor son while being hysterical. "Help him!"

"What happened?!"

"He fell! He fell!"

Of course, your main concern was to comfort your baby, and so you reached out to take him from your husband's arms, only that...

"Huh...?" even Satoru was stunned when his son clutched onto his shirt, continuing to cry but refusing to let go, burying his little face into him.

Suddenly, he felt warm, he felt needed, and most of all, his desire to protect him was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but squeeze him closer.

You looked between the father and son, feeling giddy at the sight.

"He wants you," you finally smiled, patting baby's back. Satoru glanced between you and his precious pumpkin, seemingly taken aback as he blinked several times. When the fact sank in, he felt like a mush and pressed a kiss on his head.

The clown was convinced that his kid hates him and you are the savior. So, the fact that this little innocent being wanted him to comfort him... it made his heart flutter.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed into him, smushing his face to his little one's. "Don't cry, yeah? You're making me sad too."

"Satoru... are you getting glassy-eyed?"

"...am not!"

DAY THREE RESULT : DUBIOUS OUTCOME

"He's asleep..." you placed your baby between you and Satoru on the bed later that night, he was now so peaceful, out like a light.

Satoru turned to face you and the baby, looking at both of you with a yawn, but a soft smile lit his face when he saw how you pecked his son's cheek lightly.

These three days made him almost forget that curses still existed out there. Spending time with his son blurred that fine line between reality and a perfect daydream.

"He is still so little, but he screams so loud," he mused, poking the baby's cheek gently. You swatted his hand away, worried he might poke too hard again.

"You keep teasing him, that's why."

"—? He keeps playing me, is why!"

You two burst into quiet giggles then, and you couldn't help but reminiscing about the journey from when you first found out you were expecting, through the first ultrasound, and all the way to delivering your son.

And it seemed like Satoru had an inkling of what you were thinking when he suddenly blurted:

"Thank you, for everything you do," he whispered then, his eyes crinkled so softly at you.

You playfully huffed to hide your misty eyes, and in that moment, Satoru knew, that you too were glad for this life you two shared.

. . .

And that, in and of itself, was enough for him to thank all the stars for bringing him to meet you in that most beautiful spring of 2006.

Epilogue

It was morning, and baby was awoken by... sounds.

He looked to the side to find his mama there— your hand on his tummy to prevent him from rolling.

And then he turned to the other side to find his papa... who is perfectly still, but emanating this low sounds with each breath he took.

The longer he heard it, the more irritated your munchkin felt. So he rose, put his fists together, and came down on him—

Whack!

"—?!" Satoru groaned when something hit his face, and he opened his eyes only to see his son readying his punch again—

"W-why are you hitting me!" he was mortified. "H-help! Sweets, wake up! He’ll murder me!”

OVERALL MISSION RESULT : FAILED

[beanlot]

ellie, who uses a vibrator on you for the first time, and just can’t get e-fucking-nough.

wc: 2.2k (smut + light fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“the fuck is that?” you hum from the crook of her neck after having examined the small toy, and it rests in her palm, her voice a little shaky from nerves. “okay.. so.. uh.. this little guy, helps stimulate certain areas..”

“this little guy?” you repeat her words with a playful smirk, pupils dilated with adoration when you look at her, resplendent enough that she can see her flustered expression reflecting back at her when she maintained that eye contact.

“yeah, this little guy..” she has a teasing smile to her, which only amplifies the pooling anticipation in your stomach.

“turn it on. turn it on.” you eagerly whisper against her neck, your lips still numb from your previous make-out, tingling from her savoured taste. after a few seconds of tampering with the remote, you hear a silent whirring. “alright.. says here that this is the lightest level. ‘n then..” she mumbles, and the whirring intensifies into a jarring buzz.

“i see..” you mumble as you watch the toy convulsing in her palm, and you touch it, your fingertips shivering intensely upon the metallic. “damn.”

but whilst your eyes are inspecting it, her eyes are plastered onto you, eyes brimming with desire. lust. hunger. you don’t notice it, you just feel her seductive breath on your cheek; her inviting whisper following shortly after.

“let me.. please?”

you slowly turn your head to look at her, noting her low lids and desperately parted lips that beg for your acceptance. you don’t answer, admiring her features as it fuels the fluttering in your chest and the cudgelling of your heartbeat against your ribs.

you want it. you want her so bad.

“it’ll feel good, baby.. i’ll try..” her whisper is a plead, delicate kisses peppering your jawline so seductively as she guides the device to your chest. your breath is unregulated, shaky with her intuitive touches.

you sigh, when she grazes it over your clothed nipple, the vibration a pleasure on your breast. “it tickles.” you breathily laugh, your stomach shuddering along with the device.

“tickles?” she laughs against your lips, smooching at the corner of them amorously. her elbow propping herself up, and you watch as she grazes it repeatedly over your nipple; watching as the fabric starts raising slightly when it hardens.

the vibrations start teasingly streamlining down to your underwear, wetness so evident when your clothed slit engulfs the metal.

“gonna put it on your clit, my love..” she whispers, as if she’s asking for your permission, your guidance.

her breath ghosts your cheek as her gaze focuses on your thighs - the heaven between them. the way your dripping cunt swallows it, blissful sensations on your swollen and clothed clit when she applies pressure.

“oh..” you whisper shakily, your hips instinctively and subtly rutting into it. because you want more.

“oh?” she repeats, eyebrows arching momentarily. she experiments, fingertips guiding the device - circling, tapping and grazing your clit.

it’s when she pulls the dampened fabric to the side, holding the vibrator down onto your hood that you seem rather eager. “wait. keep it-keep it there.” you sigh, thighs twitching. you feel your core tightening, clit pulsing with it's own lustrous heartbeat, and your hips subconsciously rolling into it. “keep it-there..”

“feels good, baby?” her lips subtly turn upwards into something you could only describe as a snarky smirk, tongue resting between her teeth.

you’re focused, ankles quivering and your abdomen tensing repeatedly from the ecstasy. you hear her mumble again through the concentration, her irises narrowed at your body’s reaction. “shaking so much, holy shit.”

your breathing is a little jagged, and you’re clutching at her wrist, making sure she doesn’t move or mettle up that teasing courage of hers to deny you what you so desperately want need. “just don’t move it..” you gasp, your back arching into the vibrations.

you scan her features through the haze; pretty verdant eyes tainted with desire, the fruitful shape of her lips, and that fucking scar slicing her eyebrow. she's wearing that stupid black shirt you like so much, and has that stupid hairstyle you love. “you’re so hot..” you whisper faintly, impulse that reflects your innate need to finish spilling out. “i’m gonna-fuck. i’m gonna ride your fucking face after this..”

“yeah?” she arches her eyebrows, voice a pitch higher, as if she’s challenging you. mocking you, even.

“uh huh.. gonna-i’m gonna-“ you try to think of what to say, but nothing other than your whimpering blither seeping from your helpless lips. and so she interrupts you,

“gonna what, baby?” she whispers, and you know for sure now - she's definitely mocking you. you look down to her hand between your thighs; watching the tendons that manifest her slender wrist start to twitch, those admirable veins framing her knuckles.

your impending orgasm is obvious by how tremulous your body reacts, her fingers amping up the vibrations as she presses it deeper onto your clitoral hood.

"oh, that's it. just let go, feel it.." she whispers, her free hand slithering down to your tremoring hip, measuring up the clenching and troubled muscles within them. her mouth is watering, she doesn't realise it until she swallows back her saliva.

she wants nothing more than to suck at your clit, coat you with her, slurp up your taste so disgustingly that you wouldn't be able to look at her the same tomorrow.

her free hand glides towards your slit, your thick juices coating her slim fingers so seductively. you hear her hum, a low and guttural moan, as you feel one of them slew inside your hole. it contracts so welcomingly around her finger, and it's so easy for her to slide another in.

"m sorry, baby.. i should've asked.." she whispers when she hears your troubled whine, but its not troubled in the sense you don't want it, it's troubled in the sense that you've never understood how fucking good it feels to be stuffed with her fingers.

so you shake your head with difficulty, trying to notion to her that it's fine, she can do as she pleases.

so she teasingly twines them upwards, feeling the harsh vibrations of the toy on your clit internally against your walls. "you feel that?" she asks softly, her voice silk.

"more.. just-just a little more.." you exhale unstably, so desperate to feel her against your most sensitive nerves, so guiding and patient with her. she takes your words, absorbs them with gratitude.

"more, my love.. i got you.." she's also unsteady with her breath, and just like your desperation, she's desperate to impress.

you feel her curl further against your spongy and quivering walls, eyes rolling back as she gradually fucks you with her fingers. "like that, pretty girl?"

"uh huh.. uh-like that.. like-oh fuck, ellie, baby-"

she can tell you're gonna come by how choked up your breaths are, and how rigid your body feels under her hands. "nice and easy, nice and easy.." she whispers, and you suddenly feel her wet tongue on your stomach, streamlining up to your abdomen and leaving a trail.

you can hear your own thighs walloping against her hand, your cunt squelching with every appreciative pump of her fingers. and ellie does what ellie does best, she talks you through it.

"thas' it, feel what i'm doing to you. just relax.."

"you whining for me?”

and it's suddenly too much, your eyes rolling back and head digging further into the fleecy pillow. "please please please please-" you're begging, pleading like a whore for it. you feel her tongue lick selfishly at your sternum, your shirt riding up and the air whipping against your piping hot skin.

when you look down to watch her tongue start relentlessly flicking at your nipple, her eyes dreamily shut, the sneezelike sensation in your core possesses everything in your body.

you're coming so aggressively, back arching into her as she keeps the vibrator on your messy folds - only this time, grazing it directly over your overstimulated clit, her fingers still urging you to your overbrimming limit.

you're whining like a mess, how she likes it.

she’s trying to hold you down, or at least stabilise you when you come, her fingers seeping out of your cunt and clutching at your shaking hips.

"i know it feels good, i know.." she murmurs against your skin, goosebumps littering your chest and arms. her fingers are glossed with your cum, thumb tracing patterns into your waist.

you’re trembling so much that she keeps losing grip.

she decreases the vibrations drastically to aid your oversensitivity, but keeps the device buried against your clit; your underwear slowly going back over your drenched slit as she lets go.

you’re confused at first, shuffling around uncomfortably when you feel your underwear soak up your cum, your clit still getting ambushed from the low vibrations.

but she’s not one to disappoint, stripping off her sweatpants and her bare thighs smoothing against yours as she situates her bare and drooling cunt against you.

your thigh is hoisted against her clothed abdomen, and you can feel the dips of her lanky muscle contract slightly. she’s worked herself up.

“ride my face in a minute, baby— i just.. i need this..” she sighs urgently, feeling the wetness of your underwear; she’s thirsty for it, dehydrated for it.

her clit is purple and erect, subtly grinding against your underwear, the vibrations humming through the fabric and stimulating her so divinely. the tone in her arms and the impulsive rolling of her hips, her stomach rubbing against your bare and piping hot thigh.

fuck, you like her using you like this. so selfish, self-serving.

you’re starting to uncontrollably tremor again, her movements forcing the vibrator against your overwhelmed clit. “i’ll be quick, pretty—i’ll be quick-“ she gasps, delectable lips parted.

her rutting hips are becoming sloppier, the bed frame starting to rock against the wall and creak.

“ellie—ellie, please- please hurry, it’s too much..” you whine, because the overstimulation is too shattering for you to orgasm again. but you’re trying to cherish the high of watching her face scrunch from abundant pleasure and yearning, the prize of hearing her guttural whimpers.

and it’s all so worth it, the torture of sensory overload, when her thighs start quivering against yours. her fingers clenching your thigh so frantically, her frenzied state erupting as she orgasms.

“mmph-holy shit-‘mm baby—“ she gasps, lips parted erotically against your knee, the adrenaline forcing her fingers to twitch around your thighs.

she’s still rutting against you, bathing through the last remaining ripples of her orgasm, before she takes note of your raw state. her fingers are delicate, sliding your swamped underwear down your legs and turning the vibrator off. it’s submerged in your cum, sweat and enjoyment.

“are you okay? was that too much?” she asks softly, hands gently squeezing your kneecaps in reassurance. she’s not sure why, but now that her impulsive drive to finish on your vibrating pussy is satisfied and fulfilled, she has some worried aftertaste on her tongue.

worried that she pushed your boundaries, or didn’t consider your feelings.

“no, you idiot. that was-“ you sigh, covering your dazed eyes with your arm. “that was so fucking hot.”

you hear her relieved laugh, and it’s silent for a few seconds. nothing but the sound of the light drizzles of rain outside, the balance of your relaxed and seduced breaths.

“still wanna ride my face, ma’am?” you hear her ask, not ignoring the tinge of hope in her tone. and so you laugh, looking up at her. she has a hue of mauve under her eyes, bags bags that demonstrate her careless sleep schedule.

but she’s stunning. and she makes those eyebags annoyingly sexy.

“i always wanna ride your face..” you mumble, unable to resist the spirited smile that tugs your lips upwards when you see the rosiness in her face bloom. she’s excited, she’s a loser for it.

“but.. maybe.. in the shower.. i’m like—“ you mumble, sluggishly sitting up, discomfort when you look down and see thick strings of your arousal between your thighs. “i’m hot, and sweaty, and gross.”

you look at her, and you’re strangely flustered by how she maintains eye contact. it’s out of character, even for ellie, but she’s jumped through the hurdles of being awkward with you.

all of the timidity and shyness has been bleached; she looks at you with such intimate love. “okay.. fine by me, ma’am..” she nods, lazily blinking through her infatuation.

and for the first time, it’s you that can’t uphold the eye contact. your eyes darting anywhere but hers - her collarbone, freckled cheeks fanned by her lashes, those admirable hands that are still resting on your knees.

they trace tender and doting patterns into your shins, nails that tickle and gently scratch your skin.

and when you look back up, she’s still gazing, nailing that romantic and worshipping gaze straight through you.

fuck, stop looking at me like that, williams.

“i love you..” you whisper, hands resting on her shoulders, before gliding up to cup her cheeks. her skin is also piping hot. “you’re so good to me.”

she looks calm on the outside, but on the inside, it’s absolute fucking havoc. her heartbeat hammering against her chest, eyes softening, and her hands reluctantly hovering above yours.

her palms rest on your wrists, and she slowly tilts her head to kiss your fingers, unblinking eyes that are still staring at you. her whisper is faint, anticipatory, and vanilla.

“i love you more, pretty..”