#second one is white stripped shirt

[duckduck-buck]

Put Evan Buckley in the burnt orange hoodie again you cowards.

[khaopybara]

Boston's a Bitch and he owns that Shit! Pt. 2

Some of my favorite Boston graphic shirts are: 'Make Love, No War' as he walks angrily towards Nick after a fight with Top, happy sun shirt as he's clearly missing Nick after sleeping with Cheum's asshole brother, melted Smiley shirt as he watches Nick dance with Dan when moments before he was probably getting his d sucked by a random dude, and Faith Hope Love on his skating date with Nick that is probably the only one that fits his mood somehow.

NEO TRAI as BOSTON ( ONLY FRIENDS EP. 7-12 )

[jonathanbyersphd]

No because if there's one thing Jonathan and Nancy are gonna do its wear matching or complementary outfits

[screampied]

ʚ MILLION DOLLA BABY. ɞ ( n. kento )

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. nanami gets dragged to a nearby strip club by his colleague gojo. he insists it’ll help him stop being so pent up and tense from work. there, he meets you—and for some reason, he just can’t keep his hands off your body. perhaps nanami wanted a bit more than just a dance though.

── ◜ ❦◞ wc. 6.0k

── ◜ ❦◞ cw. fem! reader, reader is a stripper, modern au, unprotected, semi-public, ōral (f! receiving), brief gojo cameo, vīrgin nanami, dry humping, lap dance, lots of praise, premature ejaculatıon, size kink, overstim, impact play, breedıng, whiny nanami, teaching him how to touch you, pet names.

you were the star girl,

and the moment nanami had his eyes laid on you it was all over. with his hands buried into his work slacks, his eyes scan around the erotic club. the music blared an unfamiliar tune with salaciously explicit lyrics. he has a look of deadpan as he stands beside his eager colleague, satoru gojo. “c’monn. why so serious, loosen up, nanamin,” he jibes, slinging an arm around the blond. the entire club had pretty luminescence lights flashing in each area. his eyes dart toward the bar before back at gojo who had a scheming grin. “you work too hard, ‘s time you had a little fun, huh.”

“maybe,” he utters, bringing a hand toward his back to scratch near his faint undercut. part of that was true. nanami basically lives in the workplace. overtime was his best friend, and it was the only source of entertainment he had. until now. with a sigh, he skims around the venue full of women. “i’ve never been to these … things before, how do i even—”

gojo hums. “oh, what a coincidence,” and the white-haired male does a subtle waving gesture at a pretty dancer that was currently unoccupied, you. “excuse me angel. yeah, c’mere,” and you sashay toward him with a gentle smile. nanami eyes land toward you and you were so pretty. compared to the other dancers, your outfit wasn’t as revealing. it showed a bit of skin but had just the right amount, perfectly bedazzled and all. your heels clank and clank against the carpet floor before you peer at the revisiting customer. “would you be a doll ‘n take him near the back?”

“right this way sir,” you reply in a sweet coo, and it was a split second of eye contact. nanami felt a hitch in his breath. he’s never been one to be nervous, but it was something about your laid back aura. it was captivating. as you led him toward the secluded vip room, his eyes peek at your back. straps of your lingerie decorate against your skin before he turns away once you face him. “kentooo nanami,” you read his name tag that stuck against his shirt. once he sits down—you notice how stiff he was. with a sly smile, you strut a bit towards him. “is this your first lap dance?”

“is it that obvious?” he murmurs with a timid hum, an attempt to be playful back.

“to me,” you purr, and the locked eye contact makes him realize — you were definitely gonna be his favorite girl for tonight.

the air grew substantially thick, it was so thick that you could cut the invisible tension with a knife.

nanami laid back against the velour cushioned sofa, bringing his hands toward his thighs to allow them to rest on his clenched muscles. his eyes remain on you the entire time, your body and the way your hips slowly sashay and roll toward him.

your cobweb designed fishnets wrap and snake around your thighs like ribbon before you teasingly make him spread his legs a bit more.

“ease up, nanami,” you whisper, the thundering music in the room almost talking over you.

“kento,” he corrects you in a low husky tone, feeling himself get a bit turned on from your touch - your demeanor.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off you at all. you toyed with his tie that was neatly tucked into his shirt, literally wrapping it around your finger, wrapping him around your finger. after a second passes, he sighs. “you can call me kento, sweetheart.”

“okay, kento,” and the way you repeated his name back to him did something to him. your words, the undertone of it all - the smoothness. your delivery was as sweet as honey.

leisurely, you make your way onto his lap before you straddle him. his breath hitches immensely, feeling your silk woven attire grind itself against him. your arms wrap around his neck, teasingly moving up and down as you start up your regular routine.

your body, it moves with the constant repetitive beats of the loud pop track playing in the background. you’ve probably heard that same song for about ten times this entire night.

nanami grows quiet, gentle fawn eyes never leaving yours. you were so enticing, hitting every beat with your body as if it was nothing.

the man struggles to contain himself, tips of his stubby fingers desperately fighting the urge to touch you. he knows the policy, gojo rambled to him all about it and how the dancers weren’t supposed to be touched but you made it hard.

so fucking hard—

actually, you made him hard.

that was the point though, as tempting as you were. nanami ogles at your hips and the way it does a few simple twists and jerks. he grunts, and already, you could feel a bit of a hardened bulge.

the warm friction that clings from his pants to your lingerie feels like shocking static. it makes him hurl his head back slightly. you spot his adam’s apple bobbling in rapture before he bawls his fist. “good … god,” he grumbles in a gruff hiss.

the more you move against him, the more he gets a few sweet wafts of your scent. you smelled so good. so sweet, it’s almost peachy. as if your touch wasn’t enough, your aroma had him going crazy. driving him to the first street of absolute insanity. nanami has a nervous grin, eyeing you finally. “forgive me, sweetheart—but i can’t touch you .. like at all?”

you pause with a cunning smile, leaning up close to where you can spot his blond stubble through your peripherals. “hmm, well no. but i wouldn’t mind if you hold my hips, kento.”

you got a smell of his own cologne, it was strong and definitely not the cheap kind. the rich pricey kind that gives you a headache after a while. nanami gifts you a look of what seems to be lust. hesitating, he utters in a soft voice. “can i?”

“go ahead, ‘ken,” and you were just a tease, shortening his name like that. gradually, his hands grab ahold of your waist. you’re still rocking to the steady, booming beats of the song’s chorus before he huffs. you start to pant a little yourself, feeling the tepid heat of his fingertips ghost against your skin. with a playful simper, you lean into his neck, whispering into his collarbone. “that’s it, touch me more. don’t be shy, ‘s good.”

nanami was sober but he felt like his head was spinning. he’s never participated in something so erotic, so … lewd.

it was just a simple lap dance.

he was addicted to the way your hips gracefully went against him. you made sure to rub yourself against his obvious growing bulge, feeling him harden right underneath you. “f- fuck,” he swallows, making sure to not hold onto your skin too tight. he was gentle, a pure gentleman. you’re still moving swiftly before you turn around, having your back face him. he watches with bronze dilated pupils, feeling your rear bump and bump against his zipped fly. “mhm,” he takes a peak at your back again, the moving muscles so pretty that they could be easily painted into a sculpture. you had him enticed, the way you moved was just pushing him further and further toward the edge. “you’re s- so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice low but still had a bit of cute awkwardness underneath. you could tell this entire thing was new to him. nanami’s never had a girl straddle against his lap—let alone dance on him.

not in the way you do.

“touch me,” you mumble, grabbing his idle hands. he gasps, watching as you guide them toward your chest. you’re grinding against his lap with an impish closed-eye smile. he’s gingerly feeling you up, thumbs bristling against the glittery fabric that stuck on your skin like glue. “like that, yeah.”

still,

nanami kento was a gentleman.

he made sure not to touch your breasts until you made a gesture that it was okay. he was respectful—something you weren’t that used to. it was a nice new touch. he was savoring your beauty right in front of him. you grabbed both of his broad hands, making him gently feel against your tits and he grunts. you weren’t making this easy, not with those hips.

it seemed as if it was only you and him in the entire world. as his fingers dance near your skin, he feels a faint sharp edge of dollar bills sticking out of your top piece. “so gorgeous,” he says hoarsely, and you found it cute how he didn’t know what else to say except to compliment you. “your curves are so mesmerizing.”

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat for a moment— feeling his warm breath tickle against your right earlobe. nanami was easing up a bit, though he was still a bit nervous. you heard a tiny tremor in his voice, his hands still roaming everywhere on your body from your guiding.

the lap dance lasts for a good ten minutes, though it’s as if time barely passed. it’s as if it was hours,

and as you’re finishing up, you feel a sudden wetness prod underneath your panties. glancing down, you stare at his pants and you hold back a smile. oh, perhaps you were a bit too good. nanami groaned, appearing worn out with blond strands all ruffled. “did you just … cum?”

“i— fuckk,” he swallows a lump in his throat, feeling the embarrassment take over.

nanami definitely came right through his pants. you saw the grey dampening mark - cute. looking at the man, he tried to hide his discomfiture by flashing a smile but it’s just adorable. “no,” he tries to play it off, but not even seconds later, throwing his shoulders down, he sighs with an almost pout. “yeah, i .. did. i came.”

“don’t be ashamed.” you sweetly reassure him, still taking a seat on his lap. you gently brush a thumb alongside his undercut, feeling the stain paint against the outer part of your panties.

nanami stares back at you, and for a moment, his eyes dart toward your lips. they looked so kissable,

he saw the crooked smile on your mouth about to form before you inch closer and closer. teasingly, you finally speak again and your breath fans against his lips. “do you want a kiss, ‘ken?”

you were gonna be the death of him,

he’s already panting. his eyes, mousy brown eyes were all shot and blown—never once leaving your tantalizing hips. “y- yeah, if that’s alright,” he swallows, and you hum. he was covered in nervousness. as if it was an attempt to stop the sudden heat in the room, nanami yanks his tie back and forth. you’re still straddling him, feeling against his prodding boner before strumming a thumb against his lip. “you .. won’t charge me extra for a kiss, right? not that i’d mind, hah.”

“don’t worry, this one’s on me, ‘ken.” you mutter in a sweet voice.

he grunts, the staticky friction scooting against his slacks was almost too much to bare. you felt the outline of his cock and it’s big. with a quick glance, he stares at your lips - shimmery.

the gloss that smothers against your mouth made him want to get a taste. just a tiny taste.

not now but right now.

you were slow, making sure to purposely drag every second. the music continues to blast loudly in the background before you finally close the aching gap between you and the businessman.

nanami groans, his hands having a mind of its own—grabbing and feeling all down your body. you rocked your hips in a playful rotation, swerving all against his lap as your lips crash onto his.

sweet,

you tasted the sweetest you’ve ever been. his heart was racing as his tongue gently glissades near yours, creating a sloppy sultry slope. “mhm.” a raspy grunt escapes out of him, wanting more of you each second. you were a tease, shaking your body against him in such a coy manner.

his boner only grew and you felt it - all of it.

with his eyes flickering, you gingerly ghost a finger down his undercut to hear him moan gravelly into your mouth. it was as if just a little touch from you had him forming into putty.

nanami could taste the brief tang of what tasted like tequila roaming on your buds. so sweet, his head reclines back and you grab a fistful of his collar.

each sway had him lusting for you harder — you peep nanami reaching into his suit pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill before sticking it right between your pristine-colored straps. “damn, you’re so pretty,” he grunts, feeling the bulging sensation intensify. and yet, as he’s speaking between hot, wet kisses, he feels you run a finger down his chest. “i want a better taste, sweetheart,” and his hands trace down the curvature of your curves, stopping near your ass.

he wanted that kind of taste,

the taste where you’d be bent over the sofa gasping for air at the sloppy stripes of his tongue work.

nanami didn’t know what he was doing but one thing was for certain—he knew how to make you whine.

he’s never had a taste of something so sweet before. especially nothing a sweet as you,

just a few kitten licks and he was whipped. strands of satiny saliva dribbles past the naturally crooked corners of his lips and onto your cunt. you’re throbbing, failing to keep your legs open as he’s dug face first between you. the noises that echo out of his mouth had you feral — you moan, your own sobbing cries for more being tuned out by the screaming erotic lyrics. “k- kenn,” you huff, using two hands to grab onto his fawn strands.

you’re met with the kindest eyes but oh, the most pussy drunken expression imaginable.

it’s as if he’s been waiting for this day.

his tongue glides against your clit before it turns into quick succulent sucks. it’s loud, you’re panting heavily in irregular breaths before your head tosses itself back. nanami’s on his knees and you bite your lip at the expense of feeling such ecstasy. you’re met with delicate, mahogany eyes which were full of nothing but lust and desire.

usually, you weren’t one to just have a client propped up between your thighs, but if you were being completely honest, nanami was quite easy on the eyes. not only that, but he was patiently tender. his awkwardness only made him ten times more attractive if anything.

it seemed you were his first lap dance and it also seemed that you were his first taste of pussy.

“t- that’s it, ‘ken,” you puff out a single breath, both hands digging into the thin roots of his scalp. he groans, leaning forward as he allows his tongue to do all the talking. nanami slurps against your swollen cunt, adding suction onto your sensitive nub. you’re a whiny mess, seconds barely pass and you’re already rutting your jagged hips against his face.

by now, it’s a shimmery snail trail of your sweetened slick racing down the chiseled areas of his chin. right near the bottom, he made sure to go slow because he wanted to savor your taste.

perhaps maybe this was what he was missing.

you,

his nose gently thrashes against your folds, taking a brief whiff of your scent. your glacé-like scent drove him crazy. nanami grouses a tiny pout, he can’t help but slither a free hand down his beige slacks. you glance down, watching and the thought of him attempting to get off to your pleasure makes you throb. “f- fuckkk.” he grumbles, blond brows contorting together into a slight curve.

nanami was so pent up, his tongue plays with you for a bit, licking against your halfway torn fishnets. they were designed to make it look like it was a spider web . .

soooo pretty, tangled and all.

speaking of tangled,

that was the entire definition of your fingers. you comb each digit swiftly through his strands, yanking his face closer against your dribbling slick.

nanami’s tongue was fragile yet rough - once he started, it was no stopping.

you’re whining over and over until your voice was a broken record. your body slumps back against the fat cushion before you feel your tummy start to heave.

“mhm, look at me, kento. eyes up here baby,” and you’re staring face first with most sweetest eyes.

brown and full of care. a dirty kind of care though.

you continue to massage a hand through his scalp before positioning his head a certain way. “hah, stick out your tongue more. lay it a little flat,” and once he does what you say, twitching muscle collapsing onto your cunt, you moan. “good fuckin’ boy. suck it there, yeah.”

and he groans. lowly, it’s so low that it’s almost a snarling growl.

he didn’t expect for his dick to twitch again. this time it’s not from your taste or even your touch but your words. nanami’s stroking himself, fisting his fat cock with his bare hand before you could almost make out a whine from him.

“say it again,” he murmurs, nose deep into your pussy. and even still, his breath fans against your folds and you were already so so close. you were reaching the breaking point - it was inevitable.

nanami’s staring at you as if he’s pleading for you to repeat your words. pleading for you to praise him once more. “call me that again, sweetheart.”

with a sly smile tugging right onto your lips, you cup his face, giving him a teasing expression. squeezing his pink lips together for a moment, you hum. “oh, you like that?”

“a bit, yeah,” he sighs, feeling the strain in his pants tighten. you had him so hard, so fucking hard. nanami could have came just from the sound of your voice. once you drag his face away from your cunt, a bunch of saliva starts to trickle from the sides of his mouth. it pours out slowly in such a way, it’s as if he forgot what manners were. there was no manners when he was slobbering down your folds with your own slick following from his spit-slick lips. nanami leans into your touch, watching through his peripherals at how you strum a bit of spit away from his mouth before making him nod up and down. “your voice turns me on, pretty.”

“bet it does,” you play along, breath hitching from the rigorously circular rotations of his tongue. he’s so nasty, flicking and sliding it, allowing it to roam through the opening of your slit before sucking mercilessly. you whine, leaning back until you’re all spread with your thighs being pried open from his hands. “good boy, ‘s good. make me cum, ‘ken. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?” and you peer down at him, ruffling his already ruffled strands. “y- your tongue can be my tip if you want.”

with a dry chortle, he laughs against your cunt, sucking against your pulsating nub until you’re almost wailing out desperate cries. cool breath fans against your entrance and you swallow, looking down at him. “you’re too kind my love,” and his words were so smooth.

you’re haphazardly jolting and rutting back against the cushioned sofa and pretty much fucking yourself against his face as he’s slurping you clean. dragging his head against your wet cunt with your mouth open, dangling like an earring.

a strong ripple of waves surge out of you before you’re creaming. you’re laid back against the sofa, legs all sprawled open and he’s eating up your expressions everytime. he has a flustered look, tasting a nice amount of even more slick trail down your folds. nanami gulps, pretty long lashes fluttering as he’s relishing in the aftertaste of your candied juices.

your legs felt like they were about to fall off. your orgasm was loud, incredibly falling on deaf ears as the music remains to drown out your lewd sorrows in the background.

“f- fuck, fuckkk,” you drag out in a cute elongated syllable, so dramatic.

the air feels feverishly hot again and you start to fan yourself, glancing down to see a pussy drunk nanami right between your thighs. yet, you’re still riding out your release and he starts sucking your pulsing cunt again. you gasp, squirming with a hand gripping his strands, giving it a solid yank before you moan out his name in pleasure. “ken, oh my g- goddd,” and he’s making out with your pussy. a simple french kiss, tickling the slit open area with the pointed tip of his buttoned nose. “s- sensitive, ‘m sensitive.”

“so good,” he groans and you had to physically pry him face off of your pussy. his tongue, you could still feel it. as you’re looking down, he shoots you a sleazy grin, and removes his hand from his pants. “c’mere.” he huffs through full lungs. a sheet of your tasty arousal drips down his chin, coating his stubble before he leans into you. with your legs still wide and dangling over the cushioned furniture, you feel him go between your legs, softly cupping your chin.

out of breath and out of mind, your eyes become significantly half-lidded.

you moan, feeling his warm plushed lips make haste against yours. it’s sweet, bittersweet.

lazily parting your lips for him to gain access, he slides his own into your mouth, one hand gently caressing every part of your body. he feels against your attire, your skin. the plethora of goosebumps that sets against you, you whine into his mouth before feeling his bare cock rub against your soddened entrance.

it’s hard,

he grunts once you feel it because he feels it too.

again, his cologne gets louder and so does your own aroma. nanami’s session ended a long time ago, but no one could even care about the time limit. already, he started to gain a liking to you. perhaps strip clubs weren’t so bad, not if you were here.

your hand playfully runs down his buttoned up shirt, tugging him closer and you taste yourself on his tongue. for a concise second, it’s a bit sour but it turns …. sweet.

your brows furrow as you lock your legs around him, feeling his mushroom tip prod against your opening. he was growing impatient, so so impatient.

“god, i want you so bad,” he speaks between kisses. nanami’s voice was a low gruff. almost dangerous with how much baritone lingers on his voice. dangerously sexy,

he felt the familiar lump in his throat arise again. it’s as big as a saucer, making him find it hard to swallow down for a second. with your hands running down his chest, he felt a pang of chills surge all down his body. your fingers knew what they were doing, dancing against his body. with rough breaths mashing against each other, he finally breaks away and his forehead touches onto yours. “i need you.”

“what’s stopping you?” you reply breathlessly, and his jaw clenches at the slight tease in your tone.

a tease until the very end,

nanami’s now back to his current position, sat on the squashy cushioned material—once he falls back in defeated surrender, it slouches inward from the weight. all eyes were on you,

he could see a bit of shine glisten near your thighs. nanami’s entire mouth from the chin down was covered. he didn’t even care nor bother to wipe his mouth either, he licks it clean with his tongue, luxuriating in your candied taste. his new favorite treat.

the taste was just a reminder of how good he was devouring you earlier. right near the crevices of your legs, your fishnets were practically torn and he goes manspread. “don’t make me wait, princess,” he grumbles with a cute pout, already developing some kind of attachment to you. this entire thing was new, he’s never tasted something as sweet let alone run his fingers down someone’s pretty cunt that was even sweeter.

with arched brows, you watch as he wraps a hand around his fat base. “want another lap dance.”

“do you want a lap dance or do you want me to give you a ride, ‘ken?” you tease, slowly working your hips toward him. he gulps, the bratiness hiding underneath your tone turning him on ten times more.

you knew what he wanted,

nanami’s dick was pretty. a mushroom tip with a bit of loose foreskin that peels from each stroke of his hand. his cock was hefty too — it had a bit of a downward curve, hanging just from how fat it was alone. you spot a few slanting veins that run down his shaft, decorating his cock and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. rolling your hips to where you’re doing an appetizing belly roll. your rhythm was hypnotic, he studies the way your abdomen curls in such a hot manner. and just like that, he’s hard … again.

as he’s deep in thought, having a little fantasm about you, you gradually take your seat on his lap.

he strums a finger against the beads that wrap around your waist, giving them a playful tug as they lightly thwack against your skin. the beads he didn’t even notice because he was too busy being enthralled by your beauty. “i… need to feel you.” he grunts, hearing the shudder in his voice.

pathetic, maybe,

but he desperately wanted to feel your warmth. his earns burn with torridity before you hover your entrance over his tip.

another song starts up in the background again and it’s loud. the same casual beats of some random tune playing, raunchy explicit lyrics from the singer’s voice. “you want me, baby. you don’t need me,” you purr, and you’re holding back a bundle of your own moans. his tip, it’s sweltering hot, a few splotches of pre-cum coating the top. you grind your hips slowly and he’s already about to lose it. nanami’s head was tilted back to a sexy degree angle and you fiddle with his loose tie some more. “mhm, you’re so tense, ‘ken. relax,” and almost instantly, his dick twitches.

it was barely even movement - barely any friction and yet, just your sloppy cunt was enough to make him cream. and surprisingly, it does.

he doesn’t even go in yet and he’s cumming. nanami groans, pulling you into his chest, hot breaths burying into your neck as he’s painting your entrance with a few spurts of pre. “f- fuck. ‘m sorry. didn’t know i was s- so turned on,” and it’s cute. whilst he’s babbling his sorries into the corner of your neck, you jerk your hips forward into his. slowly, your chaotic rhythm was doing nothing by driving him mad. “god, i- i— i want it. ride me, sweetheart.”

judging from his body language alone, you could tell he’s probably never done this before, experience this.

already, he’s came twice and he’s breathing heavy as if he’d ran a marathon. swiping a thumb over his undercut, you meet his lust-driven gaze. “you sure?”

“m sure,” he nods, entirely breathless. nanami’s unkempt strands of hair ran down his face, making him more attractive, more needy. his lips were glossed and sheeny, covered in your own natural gloss from earlier. his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to feel him more from the inside. “take my stress away, baby. do your dance on me some more, p- please.”

“lie back ‘n relax, kento.” you whisper against his ear, teasingly licking near his lobe. your hands playfully shove him back. he groans, feeling his body collapse into pleasure against the sofa. it’s a long pause before he feels you starting to make your way onto him. his jaw tightens and he tries to relaxes, he tries but he can’t help but grunts.

it’s so warm inside, parched and hot. your walls were so welcoming, having him on a leash. your pussy gets ahold of him tightly and you’re only just a few inches in. your lips spread open from the stretch, it’s so big and wide that it’s literally hard to miss.

just a few,

inhaling a single three second breath, your arms toss over his broad shoulders and you moan.

nanami was a packer, it was really no secret. he had some girth along with the sides of staggering tall inches. you never give any other customers this kind of treatment so you wondered what made him so different.

nanami’s charm for one, and his adorable awkwardness drew you closer to him … teaching him how to touch you, how to feel you up in all the right ways made you throb regardless.

he sucks his teeth at the curt tightness that made an appearance. you’re getting a front row view of his russet blown irises rolling alllll the way back.

just a few solid inches and he was already drunk from your cunt. a hand trails its way toward the center of your ass - tenderly caressing it from top to bottom as if it was heart shaped.

“ugh, s- so goooood.” he drags out his words, delving his cock more into you. you’re slow, making sure he feels every part. the music grows louder, but even still, it’s like it was just you and him in the room.

the saturated squelches rang and reverb through the thin walls of the vip room - flashing flashy lights creating a type of pearly flash against the rhinestones that stuck against your half-on outfit. nanami’s hands resume to roam and wander everywhere, not missing a single spot of your curves. he was a thorough man.

a very thorough man,

once he’s fully in though, you hear a raspy pant get snatched out of his throat. nanami was finished, you defeated him with ease as if your cunt was the opponent. the second your hips start to rock against him, he’s already groaning. it felt too good. your pussy .. the insides, the heat.

if you squint enough, you could see a bit of drool pouring out of his mouth. “you’re messy,” you tease, leaning in to kiss the side of his lip. he grunts from the simple touch, feeling you dig your knees into his thighs for support. “does it feel good, ‘ken?”

“y- yeah, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a husky tone, eyes half open and a crooked pussy-drunken grin. again, his adam’s apple bobs and you shiver from a brief sensation of frigidness. the cold band of his pricey watch brushes up against your waist. you’re rutting your hips further into him, grinding slowly. nanami’s already feral - and for whatever reason, every time he addresses you as his ‘sweetheart’ it makes you pulsate. “so good, make me feel so mhm, good.”

“touch me more, ‘s okay,” you whisper, hearing his breathing pick up from your words. he was already sensitive and the sweet melodies of your voice was just enough to send him over.

nanami’s hesitant but you reassure him you want to feel his big hands slide down your luscious hips. you want him to guide your hips, you want nanami kento just as much as he wanted you.

maybe this was unprofessional and maybe, just maybe your boss would kill you, but you could honestly care less.

all you cared about was fact you were about to cream all down his thickset cock. your legs zealously rattle against his the more your body rocked. your hips fully matched the beats of the blaring song that played on the broken speakers. and god, you looked so pretty like this. hovering over him, a bill sticking out of your bedazzled bra.

nanami gruffly grunts, feeling his hefty base stick and smack against your ass. each thrust into you was so sloppy, so nasty, he was about to get milked. strands of cum stuck against your ass, occasionally departing as you lift yourself up and down, bounce after bounce.

he licks his lips at the thought, the thought of pumping his entire load into you raw.

“should have came here a l- long time ago,” he confessed, starting to come to the sheer realization that maybe satoru did him a favor. recommending him to one of the top strip clubs in the city. if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be here right now. he wouldn’t be inside, inside of you, stirring and churning up your insides like butter. “fuck, ‘m gonna c- cum, baby. think ‘m gonna cum.”

leaning up against his ear, you slowly lick a stripe near his neck. “it’s okay, you can shoot inside.”

your words made him hard - harder than he already was.

you felt the sporadic twitch of his cock inside of your goopy cunt the moment you whine your last pre-orgasm words. nanami’s panting heavily, two bare hands gripped onto your waist like velcro. the room started to get cooler and he sighs deeply. “r- really?” he huffs, taken aback. he leaned into your touch, feeling your ass continue to throw itself back forward into him.

each time, every single time,

it makes his ears ring, his teeth shatter, his mouth growing ajar.

nodding, you kiss near his chin, a few blond strands from his stubble gliding against your lips. “yeah, give it to me kento. don’t miss, ‘s okay, promise.”

“o- okay, ‘m not gonna miss, princess,” he swallows thickly. his thighs ached from underneath you. nanami literally couldn’t keep his hands off you. with the stumpy tips of his fingers gently digging into your waist, he groans.

it’s raspy, sloppy thrusts rut back onto him, ricocheting against his skin before within seconds, he came.

nanami’s brain short circuits as he’s emitting another thick load - this time, inside of you.

it’s gooey, sticky and hot, oozing into the very depths of your cunt, dribbling all from the inside. it shoots way up into your womb and you moan, gently biting into his neck. your teeth pierce into him skin softly and he grunts. “good girl, g-good,” he croaks, feeling your body weakly judder into him at full force. he’s short circuiting, feeling such amounts trickle into your sopping pussy. it’s so much that a few of it starts to pour near the sides of your thighs. plugged enough as you were, you suck against his neck in an attempt to suppress your whiney moans. “goddamn, ‘s much. saved so much for you.”

you were so close to him that you felt the numerous beats of his heart pulse against you.

his warmth, nanami wraps a beefy arm around you, pulling you close. still, he’s got his cock buried into your cunt as if it was a coffin, the stretchy clingy grip you’ve got on him has him in a chokehold. a single hand of nanami’s grabs the fat of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before spanking it.

“you’re getting handsy,” you tease him, peppering a few kisses near the bridge of his nose. if you screw your eyes close enough, you could make out a few tiny freckles scattered across his face. “i think we’re gonna close soon, though.”

“oh r- right,” he swallows, glancing down at his designer quartz watch. in a deep voice, he lets off a throaty chortle and a cheeky expression. “ah, it’s almost midnight,” and he knows he has to pay you. he’d never forget. the man reaches into his dress shirt, pulling out his wallet before letting off a shaky sigh. “how much are your usual dances, princess?”

with a sly expression, you stroke a thumb against his chin, taking in his naturally pretty features. nanami was so handsome, especially up close.

he keeps eye contact with you, still having you stuffed full of inches. “i usually charge around twenty.”

quickly, his voice softens. you gasp once he picks you up bridal style, and he pulls out three sets of hundred dollar bills. the most expensive thing though was his smile, because he was whipped out of his mind. you could tell he wanted more.

“how much to take you home with me then?” and you hear a shuffle, he brings his pants back up to his waistline with one hand before pressing a kiss near your forehead. “i can treat you right. besides, i wanna .. spoil you after tonight,” and his voice remained smooth. “i’ll even give you a nice massage,” and he sticks more money right between your bra, still a jittery shake in his tone.

you watch as nanami still has you in his arms, bringing a thumb toward your shimmery cum-filled cunt before swabbing a nice amount of it onto his finger. with hazed eyes, he licks his thumb right off, savoring the taste before speaking in a seemingly teasing tone, still panting. “i’ve always been pretty good with my hands, sweetheart.”

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[sttoru]

OKAY IK YOU JUST DID SATORU BUT BOOBOBSESSED!TOJI PLEASE !!

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. husband!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. smut, pwp. mention of bôōb job, m. māsturbation. brēast play. reader gets called ‘doll, girl’ not proofread

“tojiiii, i just came home,” you whine as the black-haired man lifts you up and brings you over to the couch the second you step into your shared apartment.

it’s become a part of your daily routine at this point. every time you come home, you’re put on the couch or bed and your clothes come off. it doesn’t necessarily have to lead to sex—sometimes your husband does it to comfort you and relieve your stress (and his).

“yeah, i know, doll,” toji responds in a gruff voice. he lifts your shirt up over your head and leaves chaste kisses on your shoulders and collarbone, “jus’ let me take care of you, ‘kay?” you can feel his stubble, making you realise that he did not shave. not that you’re complaining.

in fact, you’re the one who told him that you prefer it when he has a little stubble. it’s so sexy on toji—especially during the early mornings, when you wake up next to him, his muscular body on full display with that lazy look in his eyes. it makes you drool every time.

you hum shortly in agreement. toji licks a strip over your collarbone before swiftly undoing your bra. he watches your tits bounce free from their confines and he groans, feeling his cock swell in his boxer shorts already.

“been needing to suck on those,” he sighs. he shamelessly attaches his lips to your nipple, tongue flicking out to taste your plump flesh. it’s an addiction at this point. not a day goes by where toji doesn’t leave your breasts alone.

he either has to knead them while he watches a show or lazily suck on them while you cuddle. he can’t help it—your tits are just a delicious treat he wishes to indulge in every second of the day. even when toji is out of the house, images of your perfectly round chest keep him from focusing on the road ahead.

hell; one time toji even had to pull his car to the side so he could quickly palm himself through his boxers, simply because of your tits. he had one of his hands under his pants and the other held his phone, scrolling through pictures that captured your bust well.

“fuck,” toji curses under his breath. he groans with nearly every suckle, his eyes closed like he’s experiencing euphoria. you run your fingers through his hair, your back arching off the couch a little. your husband massages your other breast, his tongue quickly circling your swollen nipple like a touch starved man, “mh, can’t stop. fuckin’ delicious. wanna keep on suckin’ em.”

toji pinches your other nipple which causes you to moan loudly. it’s like your stress is quite literally being sucked out of your body. every suckle motion makes you relax even more in his embrace.

“babe, i need t’ make dinner,” you mutter between soft whimpers. you know it’s futile saying that—toji is not going to let you go. once he’s got you, he’s keeping you for the rest of the day.

the black-haired man rolls his eyes at your words while he’s actively sucking on your tit. he looks up at you before detaching his lips from your hardened nipple. there’s a wet spot of his saliva left over your chest.

“no need,” toji rasps, kissing the valley of your breasts. his dick twitches at the thought of being sunk between your tits, his cum shooting from the tip and coating your breasts and face white. “got my dinner right here,” he sighs and wraps his lips around your other nipple.

you moan at the stimulation. you tug at toji’s hair from the pleasure, your hips bucking up to grind against that hard bulge that’s been pressed between your thighs since the beginning. your husband hisses at the contact and bites on the sensitive nub.

“easy, girl,” toji growls, his eyes darkening with lust, “just a little more, mhm? i’ll give it to ya real good after.” he’s nearly going insane from the sensations. his hips grind back slowly against your core while his face is buried against your tits. the pair is getting equal attention, either from his lips and tongue or skilled fingers.

the pleasure is unending. you want nothing more than to return the favor to your lover, but with how things are going, that’s going to take a while. you’re going to need to pry toji away from your tits; he won’t leave them on his own free will.

if it was up to him, he’d live there forever, right between your tits.

[servicpop]

you've got a fetish for my love gym rat satoru & suguru x bottom male reader

"That's wraps, let's go take a shower Suguru I'm sweaty as hell."

The weights nestled on the bar slinked off as Suguru placed them back on the rack. A few tiring hours of bench presses, deadlifts, and other workouts were done on repeat until the men eventually felt that ache in their muscles that told them to stop.

"Right, I think we're done for today," Suguru hummed, gripping his water bottle and taking a quick chug of water before chucking it into his gym bag, zipping it up and walking to the showers before Satoru could even get himself packed up. Suguru was first to enter, pushing the doors to the men's shower rooms aside to place his bag down at the bench.

Steam billowed through one of the open stalls but Suguru brushed it off, it was an ungodly hour to be at the gym currently. One downside about these gym stalls were that the doors were practically non-existant, replaced by a raggedy plastic curtain that swayed with every slight movement. Guess the gym splurged all their money on the equipment and fancy parts of the interior rather than the bathrooms.

Suguru's eyes flickered down to the unaccompanied bag at the corner of the bench. It was yours, he recognised it from the key chain you placed on the zips to identify your bag.

"Suguru why didn't you wait—" Satoru burst into the shower rooms, complaints already stringing out of his lips, "Look, Satoru," Suguru pointed out, pointing at your bag and to the stall that had steam coming out of it.

"Oh, well he can fit two right?" Satoru chuckled, his chest rising and falling from the laugh, "Well he has done it before." That earned a nudge to the head by Suguru — who clearly didn't appreciate the sexual innuendo. "Well, if you don't wanna join me, I'll be going first," Satoru shrugged, peeling off his black shirt that clung to his body from all the sweat, and his pants, tossing it aside before he brutally ripped the shower curtain aside.

You had just finished some light cardio, something to get your body energised and your dopamine levels running. You chose an early morning to go to the gym, wanting to avoid stripping naked infront of other buff and sweaty men and the sheer awkwardness of squeezing past boisterous conversations as you try to find yourself an empty stall.

You thought you were safe, but when are you really when Satoru Gojo is pursuing you? The shower curtain ripping open pulled a yelp from deep inside your heart, goosebumps covering your skin. When the familiar tuffs of white hair came into your view, there was only one person who would intrude on your space like this.

"Cmon 'Toru, you're gonna give this poor man a heart attack one day," Suguru sighed, appearing beside Satoru. Now both of the men were crowding your space, the water still cascading down your back. They were both glistening with sweat, the evidence of a hard workout there.

"Hey, why didn't you tell us you were at the gym today?" Satoru feigned a sad puppy-dog pout, his hands finding their way to where your waist met your hips. He squeezed the soft flesh there, humming contently; it was something he loved about you, your body was just right.

"Thought you guys were busy," You mumbled, your eyes tracing Suguru's calm movements as he slipped past Satoru and placed himself behind you, chest against your back. "Doesn't mean you can't shoot us a message," Suguru cooed, coiling his fingers in your hair as he pressed lightly against your lower back.

"I second that," Satoru chuckled, his fingers traced circles on your belly, "Since you won't workout with us in the gym... you can 'work out' with us in here," He grinned, leaning in to nip a kiss at your nose before his hands met your cock. Your whole body jolted at the sudden touch, and Suguru held your biceps, squeezing you slightly as a reassurance. You could feel Suguru's hands dip down to your ass, kneading the fat there before he spat on his own dick, rubbing it against your puckered hole to smear his make-shift lube.

"Ah, shit you make me so hard," Satoru grumbled, his pearly whites hooked on his baby pink lip, using his spare hand to jerk himself off while slipping his thumb over your tip. "This is kinda lewd, hey?" He groaned — a smirk plastered all over his face — "Both your boyfriends fucking you in the showers of a public gym." Satoru's fingers wrapped around himself and yours, bringing both your dicks together into his hand.

"We both know this is a sick fantasy of yours, 'Toru" Suguru retorted, slowly pushing himself into you with a low groan. His fingers twitched on your back, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he watched yourself stretch to accommodate for his size, "Shit, you really do know how to take us, huh?"

"W–wait," You gasped, your palms flushing against Satoru's chest, you couldn't tell if that was water on him or sweat. Satoru turned a blind ear to your pleas, rolling his hips against yours as he kept his fist clenched, forcing your cocks to grind together. The stimulation from the front and the back was enough to get your knees going limp.

"Don't give out on us yet, prince," Suguru cooed gently into your ear, nudging himself in just a little deeper before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. "Oh fuck," Suguru moaned, his thick fingers clawed at your hips. Like he got the sudden motivation seeing Suguru so drunk on your insides, Satoru sped up his hands, pumping the both of you. You could feel every twitch and vein bulging against your own length, he was close.

"Shitshitshitshit, I think I'm gonna cum," Satoru whined, thrusting up into his hand, chasing that sweet release, ""Gonna make a mess outta you," He sputtered, his hand squelched with every stroke. Suguru stayed quiet, but your ears were more trained to him. Every soft groan or stutter in breath from Suguru didn't go unnoticed, he was practically panting in your ear.

Stretching you out like you were elastic was something Suguru took pride in taking his time to do. He knew he found your sweet spot when your hips jerked, squirming in their shared grasp, "Stay still f'me," He whispered, linking his muscular forearm right underneath your chest.

It was all too much, your eyes flitted up to meet Satoru's blue ones, his white eyelashes covered most of the blue since he was so focused on your body and his mouth was agape, short breaths coming out. His once spiky hair was now down, stuck to his forehead from the mixture of sweat and water. Your brain alternated focus from the two men so quickly you found yourself in a daze trying to keep up.

"Hah, look at you, your face looks so fucked out," Satoru teased, leaning in to catch your tongue hanging from your mouth and pulled you in for a wet kiss. You felt his dick pulse a few times before he moaned into your mouth, shooting out a load onto your stomach while you followed closely after him. It was a mix of both your messes, "It's like making slime," Satoru laughed, carding his fingers through his hair.

"You're ruining the moment, Satoru," Suguru groaned at Satoru's childish behaviours — did this man ever grow up? "My bad, Sugu, want me to help you?" Satoru grinned, pulling your upper body towards him and planting your head onto his shoulder. He let your head rest in the crook of his collarbone before his arms reached down to your ass, spreading you apart for Suguru.

"Thanks," Suguru gruffly murmured. He bent down slight so he could reach even deeper, pistoning his hips against your ass. You cried out onto Satoru's shoulder, the knot growing in your stomach for a second time. "Good job baby, look you're taking Suguru's dick so well," Satoru whistled watching as Suguru's cock get enveloped by your hole.

"He's so tight I think I might snap in half," Suguru groaned, his hair falling off his shoulders and barley reached your back. Suguru hissed when you clenched down a bit more, your warm gummy walls milked his cock. "Take it all baby, you deserve it," He purred, burying himself to the hilt before je orgasmed, painting your insides with his semen.

Suguru's palm loosened on your hips, trailing down to your stomach and rubbed it gently, "Good boy." Satoru laughed, bringing his hands back up to ruffle your hair, "Enough cardio? Alright, let's get you actually cleaned up before you turn into a rasin from all the water."

a / n ; not proof read as always TT also my first time writing a threesome ! I left Satoru and Suguru's relationship open , I know some people are more into that love ... arrow ?

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader | fluff, suggestive, husband!katsuki, katsuki implied as being taller than reader, implied age (~late 20's, early 30s~), light-hearted bickering, an excuse to write more domestic!kats, 1.8k | cw: cursing, suggestive

-your husband comes home late, soaking wet and a little bit handsy-

Katsuki is late; you hope traffic isn't too bad. Outside your window the sky is overcast, steely shades of grey over a slate canvas. The roads are dyed an inky charcoal, pooling at the surface where rain drip-drip-pours in endless streams.

You've taken up residence in the foyer, between the linen closet at the end of the hall, and the umbrella Katsuki left by the front door this morning. The very same one you reminded him to take with him at breakfast, and twice again before he left in the evening. If you loved him a little bit less, he might listen to you one day.

But you do—love him—right down to his bad habits and stubborn disposition.

So you wait for him the same way you have for years; perched at the breakfast nook in the corner with a warm cup of tea and a paperback that's been gathering dust for half-a-year now at least. The bar table is worn at the edges, legs wobble if you lean too far forward—frankly, you should have gotten rid of it years ago—but it was the first belonging that wasn't yours, or Katsuki's, but ours; a piece you thrifted when you were both still twenty-something and broke.

The years have changed a lot—our table, our bed, our house, our life. Your Katsuki.

—His wife.

The band around your finger is white gold; it clinks when you put the mug to your lips. Honey, ginger. Sweet. Rain hits the window and falls; two trails meet at the middle, and stick to each other like glue. Katsuki would laugh if he found you right now, smiling into your tea like a lovestruck fool.

You let the ceramic rest, turn to page thirty-or-something of a book that you totally-intend-to-finish. An hour passes before you hear the telltale rumble of an engine.

You spot his headlights first, misty pools of sunlight spilling onto the pavement when he pulls into the driveway. It's well past midnight now; Katsuki is a shadow against the porchlight, long strides and a hand over his crown. You have half a mind to bring the umbrella to him, but he's quicker, ascends the four steps to the veranda in two big leaps; you barely register the rustle of keys before he's stepping into the house, pooling rainwater at the welcome mat.

He's soaked at the shoulders, a grumble in his throat when he kneels to unlace his shoes—black leather, designer and sharp, same as the suit jacket around his shoulders. Tailored to fit him just right.

Katsuki's always been handsome, even as a hero in training renting hand-me-down suits from the little mom-and-pop shop down the street. But it really strikes you just how beautiful he is when you look at him now, dressed to the nines. All the years of hard work paying off in more ways than one.

You go a little fuzzy when he lifts his head to catch you staring; red eyes kindling the air and making it hard to breathe. He's the spitting image of a number two hero, just returned from a long night at some fancy-pants gala; sometimes you forget that's exactly what he is. Even more dumbfounded that, somehow, he's yours.

"I know," he grumbles, moving his shoes to the cabinet and meticulously hanging his jacket over the chair to dry. He briefly eyes the umbrella. "I f'rgot, kay?"

So have you, suddenly.

There's a pause and—"I didn't say anything."

He meets you at the table, one hand at the surface and the other at the knot of his tie. "Y've got that look."

You tip you chin to glare at him playfully. "And what 'look' is that, Bakugou Katsuki?"

"Like y'r about t'chew me up." He pulls the fabric strip from around his neck in one fell swoop, pops the first button of his dress shirt with his thumb. Your eyes fall for only a moment—barely a second—but Katsuki grins with the self-awareness of a man who's known you half his life. "Or about t'jump my bones, hah?"

He looks entirely impish in his revelation, ego flaring to rest in his cheeks; you have half a mind to nip at them like candy floss, instead you reach for the cuffs of his button-up, tidy the sleeves one fold over the other until the rainwater and well-kept muscles catch at the seams. You feign a sigh when his stare becomes too insistent to ignore, hand falling to rest at the peaks of his knuckles. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah." A spark of firelight flashes in his eyes, deep carmine and coy; teasing him was so much easier a decade ago. "I'd let'cha."

You roll your eyes. "You're so unsexy, y'know that?"

"Hah," he barks with all the disbelief in the world. "What? Want me t'do that dirty talkin' shit instead? Jump y'r bones right here at the table? D'n think she'll hold up, baby."

He lets a fraction of his weight fall against the corner and the old wood immediately cries out, splintering oak and creaking hinges and the real, immediate threat that the poor thing might actually collapse at your feet.

You spring up defensively. "Katsuki!"

A once neatly-folded towel tumbles from your lap to land at your toes. His gaze falls; grin widens.

"Said y're gonna make me 'deal with it' next time I forgot the stinkin' umbrella, didn't'cha?" His fingers pinch the fat of your cheeks teasingly. "Love me that much, hah?" Your eyes narrow, fingers dive with intent for the space beneath his ribcage. He's quicker, wraps five fingers around your wrist and pulls you in with a hand at the back of your neck. He breathes, warm against the top of your head—"Missed y'tonight."

You hum against his chest, damp fabric sticking to your cheeks, flush and warm with surprise. You can count the number of times he's been this blunt with his affection on one hand; at least twice being in the presence of an empty champagne glass, or five. "Did you drink?" He gruffs at that—the only indication that he heard you at all. "Katsuki?"

"Come with me next time."

You tilt your chin, brow creasing. His head dips at the sight of the first wrinkle, the way it always does when he's trying to change the subject, or sweeten you up, or get his way in any way, really—a habit you must have taught him because you let him get away with it every single time. It's probably why he looks so offended when you pull back suddenly with a click of your tongue.

"That's not an answer."

"Not a drop," he finally says—huffs—with an almost boyish scowl.

You find yourself stifling a laugh, hand over mouth, and he glares, even as you step away to rustle through the linen closet. His eyes are red hot, brow downturned, downright grumpy, only cooling to a simmer when you're toe to toe once more, fresh towel in hand and lightly waving him down to your level. His spine bows, head dips until you're massaging the soft cotton through his hair; you would have had to fight him on this once—years ago—before time weathered his sharp edges, doused the wildfire raging in his heart until he became the man he is now—irritable, arrogant, stubborn, still, but willing—to make amends for who he was before, to extend a hand where he's able, to let you offer him one in return.

"Chose this one on purpose, didn't'cha?" Katsuki's voice is lukewarm, a tepid grumble at the back of his throat, an almost purr when you dip your fingertips against his nape.

"No idea what you're talking about."—but you do. The towel in question, he means, is from the left side of the closet, your side, all soft cotton and fluff; the same ones he refuses to use, for those very same reasons. "Said they 'd'n dry a damn thing' but-" you drape the supposed 'overrated, overpriced pile'a'fluff' around his shoulders to ruffle his bangs, more wily than usual, and barely damp. "Would y'look at that?"

He snorts, hand falling to the small of your back. "Don't get smart."

"Or what?" you keen up at him, at the balls of your feet, tip toes and still barely nose to nose; they bump once on accident, and twice on purpose. "Huh?"

Warm, exasperated breath fans across your cheeks. "Tryna start somethin' t'night, are ya?"

You bat your lashes, head tilting and fingers splaying across the 'v' of his neckline. "Me? Start something?" Your grin betrays your facade. "And what if I am?"

He pulls you in at the waist, holds you steady with one, strong arm, warm lips at your jaw and low, deep voice in your ear. "Better be ready t'finish it, then."

His right hand comes to rest at the back of your thigh, teases the skin right where your skirt ends; gooseflesh blooms all the way up your spine and you shiver. "Who's jumping bones now, huh?" you bark—yap, like a scaredy-pup with it's tail between it's legs—bite lost somewhere between the callouses on Katuski's fingertips and the press of his hips against your own.

You straighten your shoulders to get a good look at the ego washing over his face like miles of trumpet vine. All consuming, a force to be reckoned with. And devastatingly pretty.

"That'd be me, pretty lady," he says, all kinds of smug and annoying.

You hold him with your stare for an entire second—two, just so you can get a real good look at his stupid, handsome face—and then you're pulling him in by the collar, wrinkling the shirt he'll spend too much on dry-cleaning tomorrow. Not that he seems to mind when your tongue meets his, honey mingling with the mint on his breath and making his head swim, all but forgotten when a hand comes to rest at your waist, heated fingertips beneath your sweater, licking softly at your skin.

He walks you back 'til your thighs hit the table—(it rocks, precariously); one of your hands fall against the surface, the other to his heart that thump-thump-jumps when thunder rumbles through the house, and stills. You smile, soft against his lips, thumb tracing the precipice of his collarbone until your fingers can curl around his spine. The next kiss against his mouth is featherlight, barely there; you sigh, contentedly—"I love you."

Katsuki goes a little hazy, eyes the color of early Autumn; the blazing summer sun reduced to a tealight candle, flickering in the palms of your hands. "Yeah," he chokes. And you know just what he means.

You kiss him then, once more, a little more playful this time; mischievous and coy with a cheeky, "—even though you're totally unsexy."

"So help me, y/n, I will howitzer this table."

[fallingformatt]

BIRTHDAY SEX M.S.

bestfriend!Matt x fem!reader

summary: Matt can’t control himself seeing you in your black, little dress you’re wearing for your birthday, so he gifts himself to you.

warnings: THIS IS PURE FILTH!!! Fingering (f receiving) oral (m receiving) unprotected sex

word count: 3.4k

a/n: This one’s long, but I’ve had this scenario in my head for so long, I promise you won’t regret reading this. not proofread.

➽───────────────❥

It was my 20th birthday today, I didn’t want to do much for my birthday as I didn’t want to deal with the planning of everything. I decided that I was going to buy myself a cake and just celebrate by myself.

It’s almost 6 pm and it’s starting to get dark outside, I decided to blow out my birthday candles so I quickly got ready to be pretty for myself, I decided to leave on my pink silk robe after taking a shower and decided not to change into anything special. I put on some makeup and put rollers in my hair. A true housewife birthday. I sat down on the floor at my living room coffee table ready to light up the candles when I heard a knock at my door. Confused I get up to see who it is, I open the door and it’s Matt.

“Hey birthday girl! Happy birthday!” He says happily with a huge smile on his face as he gives me a tight hug.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” I ask confused by his unexpected arrival.

I scan him head to toe getting even more confused. He’s wearing oversized jeans that are only held on by his belt and a black t-shirt “Why aren’t you in sweatpants? Are you going somewhere?” I ask confused.

“No silly WE are going somewhere. Did you really think I was going to forget your birthday? That’s what best friends are for. C'mon get dressed, everyone is already there” Matt said keeping the big smile on his face. My confusion wasn’t cleared up not even a bit, why was he here, where are we going, and why is everyone already there?

Without saying anything he enters my apartment and walks to the living room plopping into my white, big couch. “Aw how sweet, you were gonna blow out your birthday candles, the cake can wait, get dressed,” he said as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his oversized jeans. Still confused I walk past him and into my room to get dressed leaving a small part of my door open so I can hear him.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going” I shout from my room as I strip down from my pink robe walking over to my dresser to find a bra and panties. I pull out a matching black set. A sheer black mesh part for the bra with a small pink bow in the middle of the bra and the same cute little bow on the back of the thong.

“You’ll find out when we get there, get dressed quickly,” he says.

“Well I don’t know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going” I angrily said and looked at the door as I put on my lingerie and was now headed to my closet.

Suddenly I hear fast footsteps coming towards my room and the next second Matt is in my room looking at me only in my lingerie. My eyes widen as he looks at me, staring me down and a smirk creeps on his lips.

“Well you know what lingerie to wear I think you’ll figure out what to wear,” he says teasingly.

I grab a pillow from my bed and throw it at him “Get out Matt” I shout.

He puts up his hands on either side of his chest making a ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’ face before leaving my room and once again sitting down on the white couch.

“Wear that little black dress you got, the one that shows off your ass every time you take a step” he shouts in a low voice from the living room.

My eyes widen as I hear the words coming from the living room “Matthew are you constantly looking at my ass?!” I shout angrily while sifting through my closet to find something to wear.

“You can’t blame me, you do look hot in that little black dress,” he answers.

'That's it, you know what Matt? I will wear that dress, just to tease you and get revenge for walking in on me changing' I thought to myself.

I quickly searched through my closet and my eyes lit up when I saw the dress Matt was talking about. It really was a small black dress, which I had worn maybe like 3 times total. The dress bearly covered my ass and the top of the dress was finished with a small lace trim. I quickly put on the dress and walked to the mirror which is located above my dresser. While looking at the mirror I take out the rollers from my hair giving me the perfect blowout look. I put in my favorite gold earrings, and touch up my lips with some lip liner and lip gloss, I put on my favorite kitten heels and finally spray on some perfume, which made me and the room smell like coffee and vanilla. I took a last look in the mirror and I was feeling myself, 'I look so good, good thing I did my makeup and put my hair in rollers' I thought to myself.

I walk out of my room and see Matt's head turning to look at me, his cheerful, innocent gaze turning dark as a lustful smile creeps on his face as he stares me down leaving his gaze on my legs and my ass.

"You look so good princess," he says as he gets up from the couch walking closer to me. "You ready to go beautiful?" he asks.

"Yeah let's go” I say as I walk past him heading for the door as I grab my little black channel bag that the triplets got me as a gift for my last birthday. It goes perfectly with my outfit.

Matt follows me outside and I lock the door behind me and we head to his car. We both get in and Matt pulls out of the parking lot. He starts driving and puts on some music as he drives. The inside of the car is dark and the only light is coming from the street lights but I still can see Matt if I look at him.

Im looking outside the window admiring the view as we pull up to a fancy restaurant. “We’re here,” Matt says and I turn to look at him and see him staring at my thighs while licking his lips. I turn my head to look back outside the window as I smirk to myself that my plan is working. I open the car door to get to out and purposely pop out my butt while getting out. Matt also gets out the car and locks it.

We walk to the entrance of the restaurant and Matt holds the door open for me. As I walk past him I nod my head as a ‘thank you’. While walking in further I feel Matt’s hand on my lower back guiding me to where we should go. We get to this big round table in the middle of the restaurant and everyone is sitting around the fancy set up table. I smile as I look at everyone and wave.

“I brought the birthday girl” Matt says cheerfully and pulls me closer to his side. Everyone wishes me a happy birthday and we sit down at the table and the only free seats were next to each other.

We all enjoy each other’s company and the delicious food while talking with each other. Through out the whole dinner I was ignoring Matt and not paying any attention to him, talking with everyone but him.

“Did you like the surprise?” Chris asks while sitting across the table from me. I continue the conversation, when suddenly I feel a cold hand creeping its way on my thigh under the table. My eyes widen and my head instantly shoots to look at Matt. He slowly turns to look at me and has a smirk plastered across his face his blue eyes growing dark with dirty intentions. I try to brush his hand off of my thigh but he wraps his hand tighter around my thigh as his cold rings dig in to my skin. I give up and try not to draw any attention to whats going on.

As the evening continues, I continue to ignore him, ‘if he wants to leave his hand on my thigh he can, but he’s not getting any of my attention’ I think to myself.

While I’m talking with Madi, Matt notices that I don’t care about his hand on my thigh. Mid sentence, I feel his hand sliding up closer to my core and my breath hitches. “Are you okay?” Madi asks with concerned expression. “Yeah I’m fine, where were we?” I respond still continuing to ignore Matt and not giving into his touch.

Suddenly I feel Matt’s hand moving even further, his fingers reaching and tracing my clothed clit. I squeeze my thighs together and let out a heavy breath, feeling myself getting wet. “Are you really okay?” Nick now asks me. I know this won’t end and I don’t want anyone to catch us so I had to lie, I try to gather myself so I can answer Nick. “I’m not sure, I think I need to lay down” I answer. “Oh, that’s not good,” Nick says, making a sad expression before continuing, “Matt could you take her home, and see if she’s alr-“ before Nick even got to finish his sentence Matt removes his hand from my thigh completely before he quickly gets up and nods to Nick. I also get up, “thank you everyone, this was such a great surprise, I’m so sorry it has to end this way” I say as I push the chair I was sitting in to the table. “It’s okay, get well soon” Madi said, I said bye to everyone and we left.

I rushed out of the restaurant heading to the car. Matt unlocked the car and I quickly got in. Matt also gets in and starts the car. “What was that” I say with an angry tone, “We could’ve been caught” I continue and look outside the window as the car starts to move. “Looks like the birthday girl knows how to get away with a lie. I know what you were doing, I love that little black dress” Matt says, his voice filled with lust. “We can’t be doing this, this is a bad idea, you’re my best friend, what if everyone finds out?” I answer with a question, still looking outside of the window. “It doesn’t matter, you’re the birthday girl” Matt answers.

The car was silent, I continued to stare outside the window when the thought of Matt’s hand on my thigh crosses my mind. I feel myself getting wet again and I bite my bottom lip as I look in the window seeing Matts reflection, I see his smirk as he continues to drive focusing on the road. As I was about to turn my head, I feel his cold hand on my thigh once again. I let out a small moan as I sink deeper into the seat. His hand moving closer and closer until reaching my heat, his thumb started rubbing circles on my clit. I let out a moan as I turn my head to look at him. Matt however does not take his eyes off the road, smirk still stuck on his face. I’ve never seen Matt like this, but thats why it’s turning me on even more, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels so good.

He moves my thong to the side with his two fingers in one quick motion then proceeds to move his fingers up and down my heat before pushing two fingers in to me, I let out a loud moan throwing back my head, my hand reaching for the seatbelt so that I have something to hold on to. He moves his fingers in and out of me curling them giving me unimaginable pleasure. He continues to pump his fingers in to me, slowly increasing the speed. “Ohh fuck Matt, it feels so good” I moan out as I switch out the seatbelt for his arm to hold on.

I start to move my hips back and forth as I hold on to him. My breathing gets uneasy as I feel my orgasm coming. “Please Matt, don’t stop, your fingers feel so good” I moan. Matt still ignoring me and keeping his eyes on the road. “Matt I’m so close” I moan out and the next moment he pulls his fingers out of me. I let out a frustrated moan from the loss of contact. He’s still not looking at me, he’s ignoring me. “Please Matt, I need you” I say with a frustrated tone. No answer. “Please, I need you, I’m so close” I beg as I grind my hips against the leather car seat trying to release the pressure built up in my stomach. Silence fills the car as we stop at a red light. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I really nee-“ I almost cry out looking at him, but before I even get to finish Matt turns his head, his eyes staring right in to mine and his fingers sharply enter me once more. I moan out but I don’t take my eyes off of his. He curls his fingers in me and his speed quickens. I quickly feel my climax coming and I put my hand on his pushing his fingers deeper. Two more thrusts and I feel the tension in my stomach releasing. I let a loud almost scream like moan still looking in his eyes, now both of my hands holding on to his arm as I ride out my high. I pant heavily and Matt once again turns his head to look at the road as the red light turns green.

I try to calm down my breathing as we pull into my apartment’s parking lot. I quickly get out, Matt following quickly after. I grab his hand and lead him to my front door as fast as I can. I unlock my front door and yank him in. He closes the door and with one swift motion he turns me around and presses my back against the door smashing his lips on to mine. He licks my lips asking for entrance and then his tongue explores my mouth. His hands running over my body moving from my waist to my ass to the bottom hem of my dress. He breaks the kiss and looks down at my dress “Oh god how I love that little, black dress,” Matt says in a dark but quiet tone.

His lips pushing onto mine again, my hands creep around, one stopping to rest on his chest as the other moves to the nape of his head. His hands travel to my ass once again, giving me a quick slap before grabbing and pulling on it signaling me to jump. I do just that and his hands move to hold my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist.

Continuing the kiss, Matt turns around and starts walking to the living room. He lays me down on the couch breaking the kiss. He looks to his side and a smirk creeps up on him as he stands up and quickly shuffles through his pockets pulling out a lighter. He lights the candles on the cake and I get off the couch and kneel so that I’m able to blow out the candles. “Make a wish, birthday girl,” Matts says his voice dark with a hint of pure filth. I close my eyes as I make a wish. I blow out the candles and open my eyes looking up at Matt. I see his smirk as he looks down at me licking his lips.

He reaches for the cake and brushes his thumb over the icing. He moves his thumb and pushes it against my lips. “Open,” Matt says firmly and I do as he says. He pushes his thumb in my mouth and I suck the icing off of it. “Mmmm, tastes so sweet,” I say as I look up at him innocently, teasing him. I brush my hand over his crotch, gently rubbing his dick. He rolls his eyes as he throws back his head, moan escaping his lips.

I quickly unbuckle his belt, causing his pants to fall to the floor. I massage his cock through his boxers and he winces. “Don’t tease me,” he says almost whispering. I don’t think twice as I hook my fingers on his Calvin Klein boxers waistband pulling them down. His cock slips out and smacks his stomach before falling. I lick my lips before grabbing his cock licking the tip. I lick from his tip to the base of his cock before moving my head back opening my mouth and wrapping my lips around his hard dick. I bobbed my head on his cock and pumped with my hand the part that I couldn’t reach.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes only to find him staring down at me his mouth slightly opened as he breathes out heavily. I continue to suck his dick and his hands move to my head, gathering my hair making a ponytail. While staring in his eyes I quicken my pace and Matt lets out a load moan letting his head fall back. “Oh you feel so good around my cock baby” he moans. His voice making my mouth water and I start to move even faster, loud slurps can be heard as I suck him off. “Don’t stop, I’m close,” he grunts out. He pushes my head further down his cock thrusting it in my mouth. Tears start to roll off my cheeks and my mascara with them. I look up at him and he lets a moan fall from his lips. I move my head a few more times before gagging as there’s no more air. He inhales sharply as he stops thrusting releasing his seed in my mouth and then moans. I move my mouth off of his dick, a string of saliva connected from his tip to my lips, I look up at him as I swallow his cum and he releases my hair.

He grabs my hand as he helps me get up before pushing me down on my white couch. He crawls over me and leaves a kiss on my neck before his hand moves to the cake and he breaks a small peace off placing it into his mouth. He pushes lips on mine and his tongue immediately entering my mouth. The taste of his tongue mixed with the sweet cake is driving me insane. I feel the wetness dripping down from my pussy and I wrap my hands around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss before breaking it. “Matt, I need you in me,” I say.

Matt pulls up my dress enough to give himself access to my dripping hole. “I like your panties,” Matt says winking at me before quickly sliding them down my legs. “You’re so wet for me,” he growls and takes his cock in his hand pumping it a few times, then he starts rubbing it up and down my folds to collect my wetness before pushing his length in to me. “Oh my god,” I gasp as I grab on to his tattooed bicep. He starts thrusting into me with slow but hard thrusts. His head falls in the nape of my neck as he leaves kisses and occasionally sucking and biting on my skin. “You’re so tight, oh my god,” Matt moans as he quickens his thrusts. I feel my orgasm coming again.

“Matt don’t stop, I’m about to cum,” I whine as my walls close around his pulsating cock. Matt thrusts deep and fast, his tip kissing my g-spot. My hips shoot up, orgasm taking over me, my pleasure sending shivers down my spine. I start to shake as he continues to thrust in me deeper than ever before getting stiff. “Ohhh fuckkkk,” he lets out growl like moan, leaning his forehead against my collar bone as he bites my shoulder before planting his cum inside me as my legs shake as I’m coming down from my high.

He plops next to me trying to catch his breath. “That’s my birthday girl,” Matt says as he looks at me. “Did your birthday wish come true?” He asks and a smirk creeps up on his face. I grab a piece of the cake and shove it in his mouth, “shut up.” I say laughing.

[gossippool]

hi welcome back to leanne rewatches deadpool & wolverine and goes insane about every single detail in this movie. in this edition: how logan's clothes reflect the trajectory of his character

1. the suit—inside

so we start off with the scene in the bar where logan appears to be wearing what we're used to seeing him wear. flannels, leather jackets. his outfit and even the setting is not at all unfamiliar for him. but, as we later find out, he was wearing the suit underneath all those layers the whole time.

during his talk with laura, he reveals that he wears the suit to remember those he'd lost, and as a reminder of what he'd done. he's had the suit on permanently for god knows how long, hidden under his clothes. at this point he bears the suit like a cross, suffering in silence under the guise of normalcy, yet sacrificing what's left of his identity by reducing himself to what the suit represents; by taking all the jabs and nasty looks people throw at him that he thinks he's too deserving of to combat.

2. the suit—outside

after wade pulls him out, he has the suit on display for quite a while. on one hand, it shows the fight that's in him now as a contrast to his passivity in his own world. on the other hand, it's also a sort of vulnerability: what that suit stands for and by extension what he himself is is now laid bare to the world. out in the open for people to question. maybe that fight that's in him now stems precisely from this vulnerability.

this vulnerability is both good and bad for him: it causes him to lash out at the questions from wade that he's not ready to answer. it also leads him to open up to laura and finally speak about what happened—who knows if he's ever said any of it out loud before. fun! even with just the suit, we're already seeing some development.

and THIS is where it gets interesting.

3. the white shirt—his mind

the first time we truly see him without the suit is when cassandra nova looks into his mind. i've been going back and forth on whether this is logan's own manifestation of himself or if it's cassandra's, and i still don't know. i think the distinction does matter, but in the end what it conveys is the same.

firstly, another layer of vulnerability again. he's already on his knees for cassandra, submissive—now in his mind he's also stripped as bare as he can be (i think we all know white shirts can sometimes leave little to the imagination). cassandra looks at him and says "you're hiding ... from all the ones you let down." how interesting is that?? if we go all the way back to the first scene, he hides his suit under normal clothes. and he hides this version of him in his mind even further underneath all of that.

secondly and as an extension of that point, white symbolises purity. cleanliness. even a promise of new beginnings. let's tackle this from the two possible perspectives.

if this is logan's manifestation of himself, it would be so intriguing that this is how he appears. maybe it means that despite it all, there's some good in him. maybe it means that deep, deep down, past all the shame and the guilt and the grief, there's still a part of his mind where he can just be.

on the other hand, the white could also symbolise a second chance—like i said, a promise of new beginnings. i made a post about this scene here, but the basic point is that cassandra is offering him something that no one else may ever be able to offer him. a chance to fully be himself, to silence the voices. the white is such a stunning visual representation of what she is saying logan could be if he stays with her. which makes it even more poignant that he doesn't.

4. the time ripper

after this scene, he's in the suit again, necessarily. but then! BUT THEN!!!!! the time ripper!!! y'all need to understand the significance of this scene in all its nuances FR! here you can look at his abs again:

but the thing is we know by now what the suit represents. all his failures, all his guilt, his inability to let go of his past. it represents him. isn't it just so fitting that it's at this point where he saves the fucking world that the suit breaks away. it breaks away from him. he's free. this not the same as him just taking it off, because with it breaking into pieces he literally cannot wear it anymore. this is not just a hugh jackman body appreciation, this is logan finally moving on. this is him realising that he is not a failure, that he is not his failures, that he has something else to live for.

5. him

and oh my god, we finally make it to the extremely satisfying ending. after all of that, we finally come full circle. he's in his normal clothes again, the wife beater and the flannel, except this time without anything underneath. he's no longer defined by that one incident, defined by his mistakes and the people he let down. he is just him.

[333sturns]

dom!rough!chris x sub!reader

“GIVE ME AN HOUR”

you and chris only had started to make out, until he decided to take things further.

includes smut, inappropriate language, praising, oral fem!receiving, making out, if uncomfortable do not read!

you moved your hands down to the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. he pulled away from the kiss with a groan and pushed you down onto your back. you gave his shoulders a gentle rub watching how he licked his lips while he examined you.

your neck slightly bruised up, hair sticky along the brim of your forehead and your flushed burning cheeks. as you brushed away the small strands of hair away from his face you felt his hand creep underneath your shorts.

“what are you doing?”

“just give me an hour.”

the tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as chris licked along your folds, the feeling being too much after having two orgasms.

“too—sensitive!” you cried.

he gripped onto your trembling thighs to attempt to keep you from moving away. watching through his lashes at how you back arched with your mouth gasping for air.

“its okay baby, youre doing so good f’me.”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling your core tighten when you clenched around chris fingers. he curled his fingers against your good spot earning a breathy moan from you. he looked up at you with a sense of pride. moving his free hand to rub gently against your clit.

“oh god.. c-chris —“ you reached down to grip onto his hair, making him groan against you. the vibrations sending you over the edge— choking out sobs and pleas.

it had most definitely been over an hour but the two of you had gotten too caught up to realize. the endless orgasms making your body tremble in weakness.

“gonna come—gonna,”

“come f’me, c’mon doll.”

your face tightened up along with your stomach. chris began to thrust his fingers in a more rapid pace while keeping his face buried into you. almost as if this was his last ever meal, desperate to make you come once more. your eyebrows were knitted together as your voice hoarse from the guttural moans. with the force of you tugging onto chris’ hair, you pushed him deeper into you making his groan once more.

he pulled away from your clit with a wet pop and wasted no time to fully unclothe his bottom half. his cock springing out with the tip dripping with pre-cum. he gently pumped himself causing a few whines to slip from his wet lips.

you looked up at him while trying to catch your breath with feeling a sensation of emptiness. moving your hands to your clit to try and finish yourself. “ah, im right here baby.”

chris forcefully grabbed your wrists and flipped you over in one swift motion. then pinning your wrists behind your back. he then positioned himself behind you and entered slowly. the moans and whines growing louder every second until he was eventually in fully.

“this — okay?” chris groaned.

with one nod he moved his hands to your hips and began to find a rough rhythm. with your hands falling free you gripped onto the sheets in attempt to keep steady. chris let out a low moan, throwing his head back in relief. his cock finally pumping inside of you felt incredible. you buried your face into the pillow and felt yourself reaching your high.

“so fucking tight.”

“chris—fuck i-i!”

you licked your lips and felt the knot in your stomach releasing. you clung onto the sheets to the point your knuckles turned white, clenching around chris’ cock as the waves rushed through you. your legs trembled as chris kept you steady. his forehead covered with small drops of sweat as he got faster with his thrusts.

“keep—fuck—keep doing that.”

and you obeyed, you continued to clench against chris. loving the breathy whines that escaped from his lips. you felt his movements to become unsteady and sloppy. his breaths ragged and his grip tight enough to leave marks.

with one last harsh thrust he froze and threw his head back, his strips of come painting your insides. he whimpered softly as he pulled out. the feeling of laziness rushing over him. you let your legs fall weak and sighed as he tumbled next to you, wrapping his arm underneath you and pulling you close.

“that was more than an hour.”

“couldnt help myself baby.”

©333sturns

[metranart]

hi! it’s me

i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)

like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?

(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)

xoxo,em! take care

Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)

How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋

Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.

SATORU GOJO

Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.

The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:

"Do you like it?"

Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.

"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.

"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.

Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.

"S-Satoru, baby?"

You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.

"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.

You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"

"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."

Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?" 

He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"

You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.

Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.

"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.

"Huh?"

"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you. 

You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent. 

Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. 

“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.

“It's just a tattoo....”

“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..." 

He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.

"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"

You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high. 

"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

NANAMI KENTO

He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.

"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times. 

"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"

"I do."

"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"

"I see."

Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."

Silence and more close observation.

You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...

Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.

"K-Ken?"

"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.

"Nanami."

"... Do you still have the lipstick?"

"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."

"Lend it to me, darling."

With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.

“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”

“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?” 

He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it. 

You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss. 

Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”

His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.

"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."

His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.

“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”

You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.

“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”

A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him. 

“You have yourself a deal, baby."

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

CHOSO KAMO

Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.

It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.

"Shit, just go away." 

He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy. 

And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-

Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-

"C-Choso?"

His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -

"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.

Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.

Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him. 

Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.

But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.

Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.

“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”

Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.

“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-” 

You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs. 

“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”

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SUGURU GETO

“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself.  Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you.  “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”

Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—

“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good?  Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”

 “…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”

One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”

“S-Sorry…” 

Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”

“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.

“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”  

And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.

Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.  

Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.

“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”

“Y-You think?” 

Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.  

“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.

“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”

“….-Own?”

And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.

“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”  

“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”

Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started. 

“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.” 

His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”

He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.

Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.

“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”  

“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….” 

Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.

Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.

“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”

A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.

Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.

“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.

You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.

“Starving.”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

RYOMEN SUKUNA

The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes. 

You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you. 

“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”

Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.

“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.

“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"

"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"

"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"

You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"

"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"

"Which is?"

"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."

“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—

Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.

Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.

You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.

“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”

His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.

Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.

"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."

“Jerk.”

He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

[maisanshine]

𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄| 𝐉𝐉𝐊

“𝐰𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧“

Paring- fwb!Jungkook x fwb!female reader

Warnings- car sex, riding, rough sex, unprotected sex (don’t try at home), pounding, hickeys, hair pulling, biting, alot of licking for some reason, overstimulation, eating out and cum eating :))

A/N; Well guys who is back from the dead? Me. I was bored and ovulating. I miss my boys so bad🥲

Word count- 662

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“Fuck” Jungkook's eyes eventually look up from your chest. “What happened?” He grunts making an effort to stay focused on fucking you, eyeing your clothed tits and your crisis as you ride him.

“Your car is too damn small” you whine as you swap from up and down to grinding on his front.

“To bad I’m about to cum, I’ll eat you out after”

“Dickhead” jungkook pounds you from underneath his balls smacking against your supple sweat-drenched skin. You moan at the sensation. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Jungkook lifts your shirt past your tits and stares at your hard nipples before launching onto one like a newborn baby.

“Ah fuck… you asshole” you sob and Jungkook stucks the crap out of your nip. His thrusting getting more reckless.

Your body is burning and heavy as you feel your insides throbbing around his stiff cock deep inside you. The cool air from the air conditioner not doing any justice. The soft melody of the Chris Brown song is overshadowed by the erotic sound of you and Jungkook.

You begin sucking his neck to try and stop your head from colliding with the top of the car. You lick and bite his neck.

Jungkook leans his head back, letting you mark him. Even though he’ll bitch you out about it later. Arguing that it makes “his other girls jealous” you giggle at the thought in your head. You dig your nails in his soft clean skin. The imprint coming through. You bite his ear gaining a lower growl from Jungkook who is bottoming out under you.

Jungkook pinches your nipples as he thrusts inside of you. The car trembles at the harsh movements as he hunts his orgrams. You move to his neck licking from his Adam’s apple to his jawline sucking a hickey right under.

“Fuck I’m cumming,” he lets out as he rips his neck away from the hickey and kisses you. Tounges moving in a circles, the fast rush of his cum coating your velvet walls in white. Your breathy moan echoes as you swallow his own. Jungkook softens after he comes and you sit upright but you collide with the roof of the car again.

Jungkook laughs as he hears your frustration for the silent fuck that falls from your lips. You smack his chest as you slip his cock out feeling empty, cool air rushing in as you sit back in the passenger seat.

“We never doing this again,” you say as you fix your skirt. Which jungkook stops you from doing?

“Uh uh, I said was going to eat you out” You eye him as he reaches over the center console dipping his face into your cum filled cunt. Your knees collide with his head as you close your legs.

“Uhm, you just came inside of me three seconds ago?” You said rather embarrassed.

Jungkook rubs the side of his head and pushes your thigh as far as it goes out.

“Fuck off, I’m cleaning you up” You don’t even get the chance to oblige before he licks and hard long strip against your sensitive clit. You lean your head back had he cleans his cum up with his tongue.

You grab onto his hair as he licks bigger his nose rubbing against your spot and you start moaning. He moves from side to side as your orgasm crests and you feel the sensation of another mess coming through.

“Fuck fuck fuck, ima” Before you finish your slight warning to Jungkook your orgasm hits, and you squirt all over his face. Jungkook takes it in as you damn nearly rip his hair off his head. You gasp letting go and slumping against the door of the car as Jungkook finishes up. A few seconds later you kick him off and his top lip and his nose is dripping in your essence.

“We are so doing this again” Jungkook laughs licking his lips.

[msgexymunson]

The Code

Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 

Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 

A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.

6.2k words

Masterlist 

This must be the spot. 

You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 

Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 

A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 

“Hey, you leave me a note?” 

He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 

“Yeah, you OK?” 

He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 

“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 

“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 

He laughs, tipping his head back. 

“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 

Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 

You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 

After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 

“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 

“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 

“So, you got something for me?” 

Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.

Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 

“For you? Of course.” 

He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 

“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 

He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 

“Twenty?” 

Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 

“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”

You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.

“Such a gentleman.” 

Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 

“Here, twenty.” 

He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 

“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 

“Sure, why not.” 

You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 

“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 

“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 

“So, you're new? When did you start?” 

“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 

“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 

“Oh really? What did you do?” 

You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 

“What didn't I do?” 

He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 

You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 

The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 

“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 

“Huh?” 

“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 

Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 

“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 

“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 

Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 

“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 

“Yeah?” 

It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 

His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 

“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 

Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 

Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 

Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 

The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 

It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 

“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 

Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 

“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 

You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 

“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 

It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 

“Are you- for real?” 

You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 

“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 

“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 

“Swear? On what?” 

“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 

He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 

“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 

“Alright then, scouts honour?” 

“You were a girl scout?” 

“No.” 

He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 

“I swear on Ozzy.” 

Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 

“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 

You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 

“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 

Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 

“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 

You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 

********************

He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 

In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 

Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 

You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 

“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 

“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 

“And your last name is…?” 

“Henderson.”

“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 

“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 

“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.

“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 

You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 

“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 

“The one and only, sweetheart.” 

“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 

“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 

Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 

“Dustins gonna kill me.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 

“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 

Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 

“If you want me to go-” 

“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 

“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 

“Nope. You're too hot.” 

Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 

“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 

“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 

Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 

“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 

You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 

“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 

Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 

Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 

You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 

As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 

“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 

All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 

He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 

You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 

Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 

He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 

This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 

It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 

Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 

He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 

“Please, please, please-” 

The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 

Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 

Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 

He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 

He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 

His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 

“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 

“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 

“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 

He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 

“Fuck, you are a dream.” 

His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 

“Bedroom?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 

He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 

In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 

Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 

“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 

“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 

You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 

Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 

His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 

“Fuck stop stop, please.” 

He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 

“You OK there champ?” 

“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 

He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 

Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 

Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 

You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 

“No. Leave them on.” 

It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 

He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 

“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 

“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 

In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 

“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 

His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 

“Do you have protection?”

“I'm on the pill, is that-” 

It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 

Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 

“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 

The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 

Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 

“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 

Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 

“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 

Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 

The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 

Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 

Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 

It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.

“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 

“Please cum in me.”

Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 

“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 

Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 

“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 

You laugh, kissing his cheek.

“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 

“I can take care of you-”

“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 

You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 

Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 

“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 

“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 

Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 

Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 

You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 

“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 

Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 

Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 

Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 

“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 

“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 

“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 

“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 

“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 

You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 

“Then stay. Stay with me.” 

Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 

“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 

Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 

For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 

********************

Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 

Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 

He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 

So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 

That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 

Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 

“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 

Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 

“Sup, Dust Buster!” 

Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 

“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 

“Until you were in my fucking house???” 

“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 

‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 

“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 

“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 

Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 

“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 

“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 

“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 

The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 

“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 

Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 

“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 

“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 

Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn

[meangirls-imagines]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl('s abs)

requested by @jjsmaybank20: "Hey! Can I request a Regina x reader fic where reader is on the soccer team and has serious muscles, including and, and Regina is like really attracted to that? And they end up having sex and Regina riders the readers abs?"

WARNINGS: 18+ only pls. ab riding. regina being a bottom. reader being kinda cocky.

"oh fuck, that feels so good."

pleasure shot through her body at each roll of her hips. blonde hair stuck to sweaty skin as tattooed hands guided gentle curves up and down the defined ridges of a taut abdomen. 

regina george never saw herself ending up in this position. she was the apex predator, she was the queen. yet here she was, half-naked and riding the "badass" of north shore's abs like there was no tomorrow. 

"god gina, you're so fucking pretty like this. keep going baby, use me." the blonde whimpered at the sound of y/n's voice, deep and sultry. god, what was this girl doing to her? y/n's tattooed hand moved from her hip, reaching back and grabbing a handful of regina's ass, squeezing.

regina threw her head back, moaning loudly. she began to grind faster, chasing her high. y/n smirked and allowed her to speed up for a few seconds, before grabbing her hips and slowing her down. regina whined, the high she was chasing slowly fading away. 

"not yet baby. just a little longer." regina let out a frustrated groan as she began her movements again. she hated when y/n teased her. the blonde whimpered as her clit throbbed. she needed a release, and she needed it soon. y/n smirked at how desperate the blonde on top of her looked. 

she knew regina needed to let go of the control she had. yes, she was the queen bee, but everyone needed to relinquish control sometimes. when her and regina started dating, it was hard for the blonde to relinquish her dominance. 

but y/n helped her learn that she didn't need to be the queen bee behind closed doors. and everyone at north shore could see and feel a difference when regina walked through the halls now. 

sweat began to drip down regina's forehead as she sped up her movements once again. she could feel her orgasm slowly building again as y/n began to kiss her neck. regina threw her head back, giving more access to the skin as y/n sucked marks into her neck. "my beautiful girl, you look so perfect right now. i bet you're just aching to cum aren't you? beg me for it baby."

regina began to ramble. "please y/n, i need to cum. it's been hours. i need it so badly baby. i'll do anything for you to make me cum." y/n smirked at how blissed out regina looked and sounded. she felt cocky that she was the only one who could make regina feel as good as she did right now.

feeling as if regina earned it, y/n leaned up and whispered in regina's ear.

"cum."

regina saw white. her ears were ringing with how hard she came. her legs shook and she let out a scream (y/n thanked everyone above that regina's mom was gone). regina had never cum so hard in her life. her limp body melted into y/n's embrace as the girl held her tight and whispered sweet nothings in the blonde's ear. 

y/n had rolled over, laying regina down on her massive bed, getting up and grabbing a washcloth from her bathroom. returning to the bed, she continued whispering praise to the blonde as she gently cleaned her delicate area with the cloth, shushing whimpers from the girl. 

feeling satisfied with her work, she grabbed some of her boxers and an oversized t-shirt for regina to wear, stripping down to her boxers and sports bra, before sliding under the covers next to the blonde. 

instantly, regina nuzzled herself into y/n's side, burying her face in her neck. y/n smiled and kissed the blonde's forehead. "i love you gina. so fucking much." regina smiled against y/n's neck, mumbling sweet "i love you too" before slipping off into dreamland.

[s-4pphics]

uhh yeah brainrot took over and i scribbled like i do not care…… MILF!ELLIE ORGASM ……….

this shit like 400 words who cares it’s literally ellie getting her shit beat in by her daughters babysitter….

“You like this, huh? Sneakin’ around like a whore?”

Ellie flinches when your aggression hits her cheek in gusts. She never would’ve expected that a nasty phone call with her psycho ex-fiancé would’ve ended with two — three, fuck three — of her babysitter’s fingers shoved inside her pussy. The night’s been such a blur: screaming contests, threats of lawsuits, hours of crying from a baby that she loves and would happily die for… and now she’s getting wrung out by someone half her age against the front door that she pays for.

The springtime is prurient…

“I-I love it.”

You grin like a doll. A cursed one with dried blood between every crochet. The white of your teeth get the hairs on her neck reaching for the ceiling. She does love it; loves how you treat her like nothing. Completely stripped of her only identity. A mere vessel for you to use for taunts.

Your thrusts are stealing her soul; fast and hot and determined to get her to break. “And I love this pussy. She deserves so much love.” Ellie’s cheeks heat when she catches herself chasing your mouth for a desperate kiss, but you pull away whenever her nose brushes yours. So close, yet not at all. “I bet she’d hate it if she knew.”

Her chest stings, “Don’t talk about her.”

Ellie’s teeth grit at your cackle, “What? You don’t think she’d be mad?”

She knows so. That’s why she doesn’t wanna fucking talk about it. Nothing ruins a nut like thinking about getting cheated on by your first and only love… at 7 months pregnant. The mention of her will always leave a fiery sting in her gut.

“Who could abandon such good pussy?” You coo against her throat. “She takes everything. Does exactly what she’s supposed to. Pushed out a whole fuckin’ person and still traps whatever goes in.”

Ellie whines when her pussy squeezes down on you in confirmation. Every punctured grind of your fingers is calculated and pushes her into oblivion against white painted hardwood. She can hardly hold herself up. A shaky hand lands on the doorway in attempts to steady herself, eyes capturing glimpses of her brain going into overdrive.

“Don’t stop, don’t sto — fuckyesyesyesbaby — !”

“Uh huuuh, there’s my pretty girl, gimme what I want… that’s it tha’s it—“

You’re pulled so close when her walls suck you in sporadic pulses, milking your fingers at an alarming rate. She’s screeching her little head off into your shoulder, wetness spreading all over your wrinkly digits and down to your palm. Stress leaves her body with every harsh jerk of her clit under your thumb. You’re guiding her through the pleasure that’s crackling beneath her bones and she swears she’s in love.

Time melts. She only gets seconds to recover before her brain turns to mush when you drop to your knees in front of her, head traveling under her oversized shirt in search of roses. When you locate it, you swallow her whole, and she goes cross eyed at the slick that dribbles down your chin.

She’d give you as many children as you want if you always treat her this well.

MEEEP