#resistance reader

[natashowlet]

Miguel O’Hara icons

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he��s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Hacker × GN Reader , drabble

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Hacker who jerks off to the live video of you touching yourself while watching some porn from the website. You should have unplugged the webcam from your PC darling, you never know who is currently watching you through it right?

Yan! Hacker who knows just what kind of videos you enjoy watching. He has your whole browser history, including the porn sites you visit every time you feel sexually frustrated.

Yan! Hacker who does feel a pang of guilt for doing these to you, tapping and hacking all your stuff just to satiate his needs. Oh gosh, look at you wearing that flimsy shirt, he can see your nipples perking through!

Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just visit you and rail you dumb just like what the people are doing in the video. You really like vocal men huh? As much as he is the silent type, he could try grunting or letting his moans slip if you'd just let him slip his cock inside you!

Yan! Hacker who has everything on record, the video of you touching yourself including the audio where you are whimpering at your own touch. Oh, you look so ravishing and adorable! He feels the need to blackmail you just to see your face pale up for fun but that would be a boomerang for him because you'd shut yourself.

Yan! Hacker who won't stop jerking off even though you are long wasted already. No, he still wants more. The old recordings could help him while he watches you sleep, pleased after your previous masturbation.

Yan! Hacker who zooms the video until it's pixelated just to get a close-up of your sleeping figure, his tip smearing the screen with his precum as his hand pumps his shaft fastly, audio of you moaning playing in his headset.

Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just fuck your mouth as you dazed away in your sleep. His hand will play with your nipple while the other hand strokes your hair, he knows you like it when people stroke your hair after all.

Yan! Hacker who trembles as he thinks of the audio playing in his headset as you moan into his ears, his hand as your hand, and the video as you yourself.

"Fucking take it all..."

Yan! Hacker who cums right into the screen, he'll clean the mess later but for now, he wants you all to himself virtually. He will play another video of you, this time in a different setting. Just how many hidden cameras has he set inside your place?

Yan! Hacker who contemplates whether he should just make things easier by confessing to you or keep things as it is. It's not like he doesn't have a chance, judging by how you hump the pillow while moaning his name out.

'Seth, Seth...'

Yan! Hacker who will for sure fuck you dumb the moment the two of you become official. The bed will be creaking until the sun rises and you'll need to change your bedsheet again unless you want to sleep on a damp, smelly bed. As much as he'd like to just fuck you raw, he's still considerate enough to slip on the condom from future problems.

"God, what the fuck are you Seth? A stallion? We've been doing this for hours!" You yelled at him while you stuff your mouth with your pillow, his cock hammering into you with his hand spanking your ass every once in a while.

"I'm no stuck in like you said," right, you once teased him for being a disgusting otaku back when the two of you were transmigrated into that damn game, "seems like you are the hikikomori here? How adorable ♡"

Yan! Hacker might not look like it but he's actually a fit figure, not to mention one of his favorite sports being basketball because of his friend.

[shotmrmiller]

being at a haunted house with your friends only to get separated and end up alone in a random room. it looks empty, except for the usual props and you're just taking a moment to catch your breath, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans only to spot something in the corner shift, realizing that you're not alone.

a guy as broad as the door behind him is in there with you, costume seemingly lower budget than the others (was he called in at the last minute? his mask makes him look more a criminal than whatever the hell he's supposed to be.)

he's a clean two or three heads above yours, his dark clothing making him hard to see, blending in with the jagged shadows created by the red (because red means scary, right?) flickering lights overhead, and he's standing right in front of the quick exit, neon green sign barely grazing the crown of his head. shit.

a sudden, ear-splitting noise activates your fight or flight response and you're out the way you came in a second flat, uncaring that you're running against the flow of traffic, harshly bumping shoulders into both visitors and actors alike, and instinct takes over- without a second thought, you glance back over your shoulder.

the guy you'd bolted from is moving with unsettling purpose your way. the crowd parts around him, letting him gain on you effortlessly, his hulking stature looming larger with every step.

his eyes lock onto yours and your breath snags in your throat- he's a hunter, staring you down through the scope of a rifle, as if you're nothing other than fresh game for him to take home and devour.

you push on even though it feels like you're swimming upstream, his gaze burning into your back like a brand, the icy fear slithering through your veins alive, coiling around your galloping heart, tightening with every ragged breath.

until you hit a dead end. cornered, every instinct screaming for an escape that doesn't exist. and then he's on you, presence overwhelming, reaching a paw-sized hand toward you-

"i thought you guys aren't allowed to touch us?" you choke out, his fingers curling around your wrist and you wonder if he can feel your racing pulse.

his breath warms the side of your throat. "says who, pet? you're free t'stop me." if you can.

(soap and kyle watch him come out with you in hand, looking like you're about to be sick. kyle gives you a water bottle and soap pats your back, telling you that if yer that scared, he'll go with ye next time.)

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

thinking abt film prof!toji eating you out in his little office... you had been on his mind for the whole entire day, the hunger inside him so irritating that he had no other chance to break your little rule of not doing anything in public.

now down on his knees and between your thighs, he’s messy being and he’s being sloppy – he’s got your slick running down his chin as he fucks you with his tongue, and his glasses keep fogging up from the way he keeps burying his face into your warm cunt. he’s like a starved beast, devouring you as if you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to eat. 

his nose bumps against your swollen clit and you throw your head back and bite at your own fingers to keep your moans at bay and toji tightens his grip on your legs to keep you from squirming away from him. 

with your free hand, you tug at his roots and it only makes things worse for you because the action makes toji groan into you and the vibrations that sends all over your body are so intense that your eyes go cross. 

voices coming from the hallway fall deaf to your ears, your mind solely set on your sweet professor’s tongue. he moves his whole head, not just the muscle, and soon enough you’re guiding him just the way you like with the hand in his hair. you can’t keep your hips still either, grinding into him every time you push him against you. and he lets you do it. 

he lets you do it all. 

toji isn’t ashamed to get on his knees, nor is he ashamed to let you use him for your own pleasure – despite the fact that it was his aching cock that got the two of you into his situation, he’s more than willing to forget about his own needs as long as he knows that you’re feeling good. 

he loves the way your brows furrow and he loves the way your chest rises and falls. he loves to watch beads of sweat form on your forehead and he loves to watch you try and muffle your moans. he loves the way your body keeps on twitching and he loves the way you keep clenching around him. 

and he fucking loves the way you taste. 

his cock throbs under the layers of clothing, just begging to be set free but toji refuses to take his hands off of you. he’d rather suffer from actual blue balls than to give you any less attention than you deserve. his boxers are ruined with his pre-cum, his balls full and heavy, as he gets off on the mere sight of you. he reckons he’s never been this fucking hard before, better yet this close to cumming untouched, and he’s sure you’ve actually bewitched him. not that he’s complaining though. 

you make him feel alive. 

hell, he’d go to fucking war for your pretty little smile. 

when you give his roots a particularly rough tug, he knows you’re close. so, he lets go of one of your thighs and brings it to your pussy instead; latching his lips around your sensitive clit, he sucks on the nub while lining up his two digits with your weeping hole. the face you make when he pushes them in is fucking priceless – your lips part in a silent moan, your eyes screwing themselves shut as you approach your high.

using his middle and ring finger, the professor makes a wave-like motion inside you and suddenly there's a weird type of pressure building inside you, making your eyes shoot wide open again.

“ah! fuck– wait!” your broken whines are like music to his ears. “gonna– gonna make a mess!”

you paw at his head in a weak attempt of making him back away but to no avail, if anything he presses himself even closer – his fingers are so deep that they’re touching places you didn’t even know about and his lips are so soft and his tongue so warm and skilled and the band in your tummy gets tighter and tighter with every passing second. 

toji takes his mouth off of you for only a fraction of a second. “make a mess then, doll, c’mon.” 

your glassy eyes meet his dark, lust-filled green ones and the determination pooling in them is the last push you need to finally unravel. your back arches off the chair and you can’t hold back the loud moan that forces its way out from the depths of your lungs. toji’s shirt gets completely soaked when you squirt all over him but he doesn’t stop. the liquid seeps through the flimsy material and he can feel it on his skin, and fuck, is it hot. 

a tear runs over the apple of your cheek and toji itches to kiss it away. your lip wobbles as you writhe in utter bliss, mind all hazy from the overstimulation. as the wave of pleasure flows through you, the exhaustion finally settles in, making you drop your hand from his hair. but before it can go any further, toji takes it into his. with his arm still under your thigh, he just presses it into your side and just keeps it there.

he helps you ride out your orgasm and the thought of not stopping, of going further, floods his brain – he wants to make you do that again, he wants you to make an even bigger mess but the clock on the wall behind you is clicking awfully close to his next class and he can’t put either of you at any more risk.

hesitantly, he pulls his fingers out of you and tears his eyes from you to look at your abused hole. he groans at the sight of it and then he’s already leaning forward to get one final taste. swallowing a whimper, you do your utmost best to stay still and to let him have his little reward. 

he pushes himself off the ground, grinning from ear-to-ear with pride blooming in his chest as he looks at your disheveled form. biting your lip, you reach for him but are barely able to ghost your fingers over his bulge when he’s stopping you.

“no, but… ?” 

toji’s scarred lips smash against yours in a sloppy, haste kiss. and then he’s pulling away again. 

“y’gonna suck me off while i give class, hm?” he teases while brushing some damp stray hairs from your forehead.  

“i would.”

… 

toji’s heart stutters – no, it fucking stops working for a few good seconds. he stares at you with his lips parted and you get to watch in real time how the tips of his ears grow red again. 

“don’t– don’t fuckin’ say that.” he grumbles at you, averting his gaze. “shit.”

you laugh at his reaction but don’t let him go away too far, tugging on his belt loops to bring him back. “yours or mine, professor?”

“mine, hm? i’ll make ya something to eat.”

cocking a brow you tease him a bit more, unable to let any of the opportunities go to waste. “like real food or… ?”

he gives you a real professor-like look and you boop his nose. he lets you do as you wish but then he’s wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “real food.”

“okay.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

there’s a moment of silence between you. the most comfortable kind. neither of you look away from each other’s eyes, smitten and a bit giddy. excited. 

“go change your shirt now, mister.” 

you poke a finger at his chest and almost cringe at the big wet stain you’ve given him. “wait, do you just have a change of clothes here with you?”

“no.”

you cock a brow. “no?”

“sukuna– i mean, mr. sukuna, will bring me something.”

“what the hell will you even tell him?”

“spilled my water.” toji’s voice is calm as ever, deep and raspy, and all you want to do now after he’s been so good to you, is to cuddle with him. “don’t worry about it, doll, yeah?” with a nod and a quiet hum, you comply. he leans to give you another kiss and an ass squeeze and then he’s bidding you goodbye with a smug grin as you straighten out your clothes and collect your belongings before making your way out of his office. you give him one last wave and disappear into the hallway, leaving toji standing there with a raging boner and a squirt-stained shirt. he is not complaining.

[xifere]

xifere presents… kenji sato x gn!reader

content warnings… 18+, not proofread, sub!kenji sato, edging, solo masturbation, pet names, praise kink, might be a lil ooc, kenji can’t be discreet over the phone

How embarrassing, really, Kenji thought. He stared at himself in the mirror across from him as he sat on the edge of his neatly made bed, hands positioned behind him. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like months, and now the evidence was staring right back at him, though covered by the thick layer of his black sweats. It ached. He wanted nothing more than to relieve himself, but he knew himself. He can’t cum without your help.

And yet, he was desperate. Already, he was breathing heavily as he took a shaky hand and palmed his clothes dick. He let out a deep sigh before pulling down the waistband of his sweats juuuust enough for his cock to bobble up. The air was cold against his sensitive tip, and a hiss left his lips. Kenji wasted no time wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, just the way you do, trying to stimulate the same movements you used. He glanced up and caught a glimpse of himself biting his lip with a slightly flushed face in an attempt to hush himself from sounding so pathetic.

He imagined you behind him, guiding him to his orgasm, and the image itself makes him forget any rational thoughts.

“Fu-hhhh…”

That one time you really did sit behind him, whispering sweet nothings in his ears, reminding him how much of a slut he was for you while praising him all the same, popped up in his mind, and he couldn't help but stroke faster. Your sultry voice, your breath on his ears, the teasing kisses you gave him. Oh, how he fucking mi–

A loud ringtone filled the quiet room. Startled, he let go of himself, and his incoming orgasm was lost. But he quickly recognized the ringtone– it was the one he picked specifically for you.

But shit. Could the timing have been any worse better? At this point, his tip was fuming. An angry red, his slit trickling pre. He couldn't stop now, but he wasn't going to skip your call either.

“Hey baby… what's up?”

“Just wanted to say you did great today, sweetheart. I saw your little heroic moment on the news.” God, and the first thing you do is praise him. He feels like a horny teen again, the way he wraps his hands around his cock just to jerk off at the sound of your voice. You wouldn't mind though, right?

A shaky, “Yea?” was all he could manage without revealing his actions to you.

“Mhm, and also just to say sorry for not being able to see you lately. Work has been so busy and…” he could listen to you for hours. He stroked himself to the pace of your words, squeezing tighter every time he went over his tip. He couldn't do the same motions as you, his brain already too preoccupied with you and his need to empty his balls.

“Ken? Ken, baby, I know it’s been a few days, but if you’ve missed me that much, you could've just told me.”

He didn't even realize. He'd already gotten too comfortable, his back against the bed, one hand holding his phone to his ear, the other hand stroking his cock, and his throat eliciting all the evidence you could ever ask for. You'd never mistake these moans for anything but pleas for pleasure.

But being caught only spurred him on more. “Hahh– missed… you s’ much…” You couldn't hear them as well as his breathy groans, but the sound of slick was filling up the room, slowly but surely.

“Don’t you dare cum, Ken.” He stopped. A whine. You loved it. The way the pitch of his voice rose when he didn't get what he wanted. And he wanted more, so why should he listen? He thought he would break with how much his cock ached. Yet his hand was still at the base of his dick. “I’m coming over right now, so sit pretty like the good boy you are.”

He so terribly wanted to disobey you, show you he doesn't always have to be a good boy for you, but he knew himself. He wouldn't have been able to cum without you anyways.

[nonranghaes]

"i bought something today." you step into chris's makeshift studio, bag hidden behind your back. "do you wanna see?"

chris looks up, tugging at the edge of his beanie. he clicks a few things, then turns to face you fully. "sure! is it another bath bomb? because last time was really relaxing, and i wouldn't mind cuddling--"

"it's not," you stop him, then pause for a second. "... but i'll keep that in mind next time i'm at the store. so." you pull the bag out from behind your back, reaching in to reveal the ugliest little plushie chris has ever seen. it's this brown scorpion with heart-shaped eyes, and it looks more dopey than cute, but chris knows you. he knows you saw it and fell in love with how dumb it looks. the tiny smile you're giving him now is proof enough. "... well?"

"he's kinda ugly," he says with a slow nod, as if appraising him like a piece of art.

you just smile bigger, brighter than before. "i know, right?!" you toss him over to chris, who catches him with relative ease. "he was on sale. i think he was some sort of valentines day plushie that someone pawned for a couple bucks. i just couldn't resist snagging him since he was marked down even further."

"did you name him?"

"nah," you lean in, pressing a quick peck against his cheek before making your way over to the couch. "left that up for you. i like when you name things."

"well," chris sets the plushie into his lap. "i love him. i'll get back to you on the name, yeah?"

"yeah, yeah," you sprawl out on the couch, phone in hand. "i'm gonna stay in here for a bit. that fine?"

he nods, already pulling his headphones back on. "might have you listen to something later for feedback," he says, settling back into his chair. "but sure. i work better when you're around."

"sap."

he smiles to himself as he presses play. he is. he's your sap.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

smutty headcanons part 4, mdni please :))

"stay right where you are," simon says as you're mid-step in your attempt to get closer to him.

closer to where he sat comfortably, legs spread apart, his cock heavy in his hand, pumping slowly.

hazel eyes piercing, staring right into yours.

"just watch," he says, and it takes every fibre of your being to stop yourself from dropping to your knees right then and there.

he continued the motion, up and down, up and down, his pace never faltering as he watched your eyes darken with lust, breath growing heavy despite being untouched.

"please," you whisper after a few minutes, desperation reaching a fever peak. he only clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

"please what, pretty girl? i taught you to ask for what you want, didn't I?" he says, and you shrink a little in embarrassment.

but you weren't even sure what you wanted. to sink down onto his cock and ride him till the sun goes down, or to suck him dry, until your hunger for him was satiated.

"tell me what you want, princess. i'll give you whatever you need,"

bonus:

"fucking hell, couldn't have waited till i got home ya freaks," johnny says as he enters the room, eyes locked onto yours as you bounced on simon's lap.

despite the haze of your brain, you reach your hand out for him, your pace faltering as you do.

simon clicks his tongue, gripping tighter onto your hips as he begins to fuck up into you, taking over control of the pace.

you crumple down onto him, grasping onto his shoulders as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

"well, are you joining us or not?" simon asks, glancing over to johnny who stood with his mouth agape, just watching.

you have never seen him move faster in your life.

[freyadragonlord]

I feel like the biggest difference between Kim Dokja and Han Yoojin is that while Dokja has for the most part carefully constructed his freak persona as a way to protect his vulnerabilities and trick his companions into believing he has his shit together, Yoojin just naturally is the freakiest little menace the world has ever seen

[hungharrington]

what about jealous steve…

ok it’s not quite jealous steve, more like possessive steve but that’s cos i half wrote it and then came back and i’m not wasting precious writing <3 ok mwah as always, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You and Steve split up for all of 10 minutes before he’s back at your side, one hand sliding into your back pocket, kissing the side of your head in hello.

The kiss burns lightly where it's pressed into your hair. The usual party music dwindles in the background, playing from the other room.

“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, voice all low.

He ducks his head low to press another kiss to your skin, this time against the heat of your neck. You squirm at the sudden attention and smile apologetically at your friend, almost flustered, and turn to him.

“Hi,” You smile up at him through your lashes. “What’s that special greeting for?”

“Nothin’,” Steve hums, smiling back, even as his hand in your pocket gives a little squeeze. He’s got that flush he always gets after one or two beers, colouring his face.

He gives you a little tug sideways, towards him. “C'mon, I wanna talk to you.”

You huff a laugh but follow him all the same, leaving with a quick wave to your friend over your shoulder. Steve’s hand slips from your back pocket to tangle with your hand and he leads you through the living room and out to the hallway. Doors line it and Steve seems to know exactly where he’s heading.

“Sure,” You laugh a bit, on the adoring side. “We totally came to this party so we talk to each other—“ Steve pushes through one of the doors, revealing an empty bedroom. “— in an empty bedroom.”

Behind you, the door snips shut. Steve turns and steals a glance at the drink in your hand, plucking it from you without any warning.

“Hey!” You say, as he puts it down on a surface behind him. “I was drin—oh,”

In one fluid motion, Steve steps in and backs you up against the door, one hand settling on your waist. The other curls beneath your chin, cradling your jaw and you barely get a moment to gasp before his lips are on yours.

Hot and desperate, Steve kisses you like you’re a feast for him to devour— fierce kisses, little nips, adoring little noises as he finally gets his lips on you like he’s been dreaming of all night.

You make a soft noise in your throat, a sound of appreciation. Your hands travel up to rest on his chest, fingers twining around the collar of his polo.

Pulling back, Steve’s delighted to see you already look a little messy — your lips pinker than normal, your eyes wider, darker.

“Really?” He asks, his voice low and teasing. Steve leans in and kisses your neck again, in the same place he did put in the living room. His breath is hot against your skin when he murmurs against your skin? “You didn’t think we’d end up here?”

Something in the gravel of his tone makes your back arch, something warm thrumming within you as Steve begins to suckle the skin of your neck. Fuck, you think, beginning to pant, Of course he’s going for a hickey.

“I- uh,” Your voice is already soaked in a sigh, your fingers clenching over his shoulders tightly as pleasure begins to drool through your core.

Steve continues before you can even answer his first question. His hand on your waist moves, shifting down til he’s grabbing at the apex of your thigh. His fingers dig into the swell of your ass, cupping it so he can pull you forward — right as his thigh slots between yours easily.

“You think i could come to these parties,” He breathes, moving your hips for you. “with you, looking this fucking hot,” You pant beneath him. “and not need to leave a mark?”

Following his word true, his hot mouth reattaches to your neck, sucking with fervor this time. His hand on your ass moves and finds its place in your back pocket again, squeezing and dragging your hips forward once more.

The other shifts down squeeze at your chest, his deft fingers rubbing over your nipple with eased practice. You moan prettily, rutting down against the denim, the friction downright sinful.

Your hands have a mind of their own, still moving up, and now they twist into the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s moves on to a new spot on your neck now, further down, and you’re helpless to do anything but let him.

Something in your cunts throbs at the possessiveness. You could very happily do this all night. The ambience of the party just behind the door slips away almost completely.

Steve pulls back after a couple of minutes, lips sheened with spit, his hair a mess from how you’ve been dragging your hands through it. His heavy eyes drag slowly from your marked up neck down to where you’re still grinding onto his thigh. His cock thickens in his jeans.

“Fuck,” He sighs, the sound rough in his throat. He moves his other hand down so he’s holding your hips, dragging your hips forward at his own, controlled pace. You nudge against his hard on with every motion.

“You don’t do this for anyone else, do you?” He asks, a dash of a smirk on his face. Smug. Possessive. Adored with you. You shake your head, each of your breaths lilted with a moan.

“Just you,” You say, knowing what he wants to hear. You know your boyfriend, so you know exactly why he’s pulled you in here and marked up your neck— and it only fuels your lust. “Only you, Steve,”

Steve’s cock twitches in his pants, his breath catching in his throat.

“God, fuck this party,” He mutters, diving in to capture your lips with his. You’re both so riled up, the kiss strong and hungry from both sides.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull back, forehead pressed against yours. “Let’s ditch this place. I can’t let you go out there looking like this.”

You huff a laugh but are inclined to agree. “You’re the one who made me like this.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But now I might be giving people ideas.”

That makes you laugh— the perplexity of his reasoning. Boy logic, you suppose. Your arms around his neck tug him closer, stealing a kiss.

“Better get me home then, huh?”

Steve grins, knowing exactly what’s waiting at home—and kisses you with the promise of what’s to come.

[ratmonky]

Business Strategy

warnings: manipulation

word count: 1k

ao3 link

Some people needed attention, some people needed love and Gods needed to be worshipped. 

"You have been trending on almost every visual media and as a podcast topic. How does it feel to be worshipped by everyone?"

Everyone but you.

You look down at him as you sit on your desk with your legs crossed, an unnoticeable smile on your lips. The tip of his cock is glistening with precum that drips on the polished floor. He is impatiently rubbing himself while staring up at you, eyes like a puppy's, begging for you to continue.

"Good work today, John," you praise him, your smile getting wider as his hand around his hand gets faster. "If you manage to spend a single day without any casualties I might even pat your head and rest it on my lap."

He nods with his eyes wide, staring at your bottom as his mouth opens. You don’t scold or comment on him for using his X-ray vision. He has been working hard lately to make you so proud. Precious John. He wakes up every day to make his pretty boss happy and sits by her desk like an obedient dog, waiting to be rewarded.

His gloved hand moves hastily around his cock, it makes a squeaky sound with each stroke. It brings you out of your thoughts.

You continue to smile, watching him pathetically jerk off on another work day after giving his report of the day. You wonder what he is thinking about right now. A scenario where he sucks on your tits while he has his head on your lap and lets you jerk him off? Or getting fed up with your strange power over him and bending you over the desk right now? He would rip your tights and pull up your skirt, humping you aimlessly until his cock finally slid inside. Wouldn't that feel good? You wonder if he had it in him to even pull something risky like that but he would never risk upsetting you. 

Good little John. 

Begging to be yours.

You decide you want to reward him after the intense feeling of heat building inside your core, making your legs tremble and pussy leak. 

"I'll let you do whatever," you say softly, lifting his chin with the front part of your heels. His eyes are on you, clouded from lust. "Just tell me what you want, John." 

There is a smile on his face. "I want to eat your pussy," he says after clearing his throat. Nonetheless, his tone is pathetic and desperate, he cannot hide the excited expression on his face like he has been waiting for this moment all his life.

With grace, you spread your legs and let him rip your tights in the middle. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk and slides your panties to the side. He doesn't bother lifting your skirt and shoves his face in your crotch while proceeding to pump his cock.

The feeling of his hot and wet tongue against your folds feels heavenly after a long day of work. You tilt your head up and close your eyes to focus on how he moves his tongue. He kisses your pussy slowly, nose touching your clit. He slides his tongue inside you in an attempt to taste you and quickly decides against it to focus on pleasing you. His hand on your thigh squeezes the flesh and he tries to imagine how your ass would feel like on his cock when you finally would let him fuck you. He moves to your clit, lapping at your sweet spot and drawing tight circles that get smaller and smaller. 

You don’t want to admit it but it feels so good, you try to curl your toes but you don’t have enough space in your heels to do so, you let your legs rest on his shoulders. He keeps moving in a way that mimics fucking you and you find yourself imagining going against your own rule and letting him ravish you like he has been always dreaming about. 

As he gets close to his orgasm he loses the rhythm of his tongue and basically moves his head up and down as if he were nodding with his tongue rubbing wildly against your pussy. Your hands grip the desk harder and you let out a quiet moan. He laps at your cunt like a fucking dog and it just works. You feel the rush of an orgasm wash over you and your legs shake as he groans and cums with you. He groans and goes frigid for a second before letting himself sit on the floor to rest. 

There is a short moment before you jump down from the desk to fix your clothing and he follows your lead and gets up to fix himself as you return to your seat this time. 

"I expect another great day from you tomorrow, John," you say while starting to type on the keyboard of your laptop. 

"Yes, sure," he chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Night," you correct him, his smile disappears as you inform him about tomorrow. "I'll be taking care of A-Train in the morning. Noir has a short meeting with me in the afternoon and well, Deep has been waiting for weeks to have a meeting, I'll take him in the evening."

He frowns, his eyes losing any sign of life in them.

You sigh and roll your eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow night at my house, hmm?" You watch another grin creep up on his face, "Don't get any ideas unless you plan to do something that'll raise our profits by 30%."

He grins all the same, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." Then he leaves unwillingly because he knows you're having a meeting with sponsors in an hour. 

The next day, you wake up to the news of Homelander selling his official Vought merch in front of the tower and giving interviews about his new show that will air only on Vought+.

[mellowwillowy]

Streamer Reader: *streams normally*

Yan! Hacker: *moderating chat professionally*

Streamer Reader: great job Seth! You are the best mod I've ever had! Not to mention my revenue is increasing after you fill in for that last mod.

Yan! Hacker: *doxxing and blackmailing all the haters into donating for you* mmh, that's great.

The previous mod: *scared shitless after getting blackmailed by Seth*

-- IMG, NSFW —𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Hacker who tapped your phone the first time you and he had an IRL meet-up. He doesn't look like those typical stuck in at all, instead, he is very nice although tends to be silent/listener all the time.

Yan! Hacker who is not only nice, he is actually no different from how he acts in the game you two were once stuck in! Remember how much of an asshat he was? (No, I don't.) Yes, he is still an asshat except that you don't know that he's an asshat that is obsessed over you!

Yan! Hacker who thought the first meeting you two had as a first date deep down inside his heart, remembering every little thing the two of you did and jot it down like a teenager in love.

Yan! Hacker who will somehow find a way to make you invite him to your place, allowing him to tap your PC, laptop, door's password anything that

Yan! Hacker who is surprisingly actually really younger than you by 2 years, you thought he was only bluffing in the game to make himself younger. He would use that fact to tease you for being an oldie, fooling your fans into thinking you are some teenager.

Yan! Hacker who would watch you non-stop after having your whole shits under his control. While he did introduce himself to you as a programmer, he has also learned more than just those silly codings. Oh, he even knows how to deactivate your security alarm so that you would never know how he sneaks into your room, jerking himself off into your face.

Don't worry, he will reactivate it again once he leaves, wouldn't want people to barge into your place like they own it right.

Yan! Hacker who will somehow always give you the things you place in the wishlist cart. While it is indeed touching, how the fuck does he know all the things you want and need???

Yan! Hacker who will do questionable shits to every conversation you hold online. Anyone he deems as an eyesore would somehow be... gone. Don't worry, he's sane enough to not bother anything related to your work. That will be handled by him personally without using your account. (Read blackmail)

—

Yan! Hacker: How about we go to Japan? I heard the Love Hotel here *shows review* is great. Lots of varieties and *explains everything you've done your research on*

Streamer Reader: ...? Yeah this is where I wanna go on my next vacation, how come you got the same idea as I do?

—

Streamer Reader: *loses a debate online*

Yan! Hacker: *coming in like a white knight with another fresh blackmail material*

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

gojo is the type of bf to kiss you alllllll the time when you least expect it . i know he is. super casually and whenever he feels like it, no matter what you’re doing….. every time you so much as pucker your lips in thought he’s There and ready to smooch you :((((((( you’re sitting on the couch and reading? smooch. you’re cooking? smooch. you’re in the shower? smooch. how did he get in there? smooch. he’s insane and addicted and he loves you sosomuch……..

[dykesevika]

Werewolf Sevika !!

Men DNI

DO NOT use or repost my art without credit/permission

[thefandomsfervent]

Victor x Artist!Reader Imagine

a lil angsty at the end, will definitely become a full separate fic later

edit: Fic has been started! First chapter here

Imagine Viktor falls in love with an artist designated to paint the HexTech creators for some new Progress Day Art Hall or something.

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

You both stay up at all hours of the night over working yourselves to make deadlines. You both have a need to be remembered but in different ways. For Viktor, it's to improve lives. For you? It's to help capture history. It feeds his ego and he becomes your muse.

As Jayce spends more and more time on his councilor duties, there's more time for the two of you to get to know each other. What starts as shared quick dinners, late night coffees, and library trips; turns to forced naps, tidying of each other's spaces, and gentle massages.

Quiet moments of intimacy are shared during the early hours of golden light in the lab. Midday forays into a nearby studio result in evidence of your new romance as swathes of color beneath ruffled clothes.

He gets used to you tracing intricate patterns on his skin, you get used to falling asleep to his exhaustion honeyed voice going over notes. Many of your more passionate nights have ended with some paint on his body. Viktor loves the coolness of your brush, of your pigment soaked touch. It relaxes him on days where his leg is sore, or his shoulder from over-supporting on the crutch. He'll rub your neck when you've spent too long bent at a weird angle trying to get a line just right.

It's a tender and slow love. One that exponentially builds in your mutual affections, one that crashes down after the attack on Piltover's council.

This time it is him who leaves his mark on you, his slender fingers have lost their warmth when they grace your face. The weight is familiar, but the emotion is not. When he calls your name, the mirth and soft laughter is replaced with a metallic echo. You lean into him all the same. The multicolor chroma of his fingertips mimicking marks you've left long ago.

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

---------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ -Headcanon Master List·-*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .----------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------