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norikuna · 17 days ago

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NERDS DO IT BETTER ☓. ── ( 呪術廻戦 )

⌗ turns out they're the best you've ever had, and you think you're gonna' have to come back for more!

ᯓ starring ─. jjk ensemble cast : nerd! gojo, nerd! geto, nerd! sukuna, nerd! nanami, nerd! toji, nerd! choso

𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader ) ─── ❛ cw ⌓. mdni. college au. risky, public séx. handjóbs. óverstím. hate séx. fíngeríng. fiíming (consénsual). édging. vírgin!kuna. óral (m). missiónary. soft séx. brééding kínk. créampíe. backshóts. óral (f). wc ⌓. 3.5k.

﹙ 五条悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ advanced mathematics, physics

"oh, fuck!" gojo's absolutely quivering, throwing back a head of tousled, snowy hair, "that's, ouh, that's way better than i ever coulda' even dreamed of." pale-pink lips snapping sharp around another moan as he shudders, "can ya' do it again?"

you're clicking your tongue, doing your very best to bite back a flushed smile yourself. knowing that you've got the smartest, honour roll student pliant beneath you, his thighs splayed out and bare — the skin spottled with patches of rosy pink, dusted with fine white hairs. he's still got that campus sweatshirt on, rumpled over the askew collar of the dress shirt underneath. where you're eager to run your hands, to slide your fingers up past the low trail of hair on gojo's groin.

it doesn't hurt that gojo's, like, ridiculously gorgeous. thick-rimmed glasses foggy over vibrant blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. and you can see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek as your hand keeps at a steady pace. pumping him over and over, until thick ropes of seed are coating your hand. it must be the nth climax of his by now, but it seems neither of you are that eager to call it a day.

you smile at how gojo squeezes his eyes shut, glasses skipping askew so you can fondly kiss his forehead. titling his glasses right back into place, all while he bites back a low, rumbled groan, "a-another?" it's a plea, almost hopeful for you to milk his poor, throbbing cock until there's not much else it can give.

"mhm, i don't know, satoru. it's kinda' risky, don'tcha think?" you're trying to keep your voice down, knowing that anyone could round the corner here. they could move past the stack of chairs littered behind the physics subsection of books and old papers to find gojo spread out so sluttily over this chair, his pants drifting past his ankles while you lean over behind the desk to jerk him off. workshop questions and calculations long discarded as the most intelligent man on campus chases some form of pent-up relief from you, his angel that's solely heaven sent.

gojo's the type of guy that's always moving, whether he's skimming and flipping through pages of glossy textbooks or speeding over the butterfly keys of his steel-grey mac, and right now?

he's still in motion, tapping trimmed nails in staccato beats against the plastic table. drumming his fingers over and over as he does his best to not let you see the crystalline tears of delicious overstimulation pooling at the corners of his eyes. shuddering as you pull back, letting his big cock snap back, smearing a thin line of translucent cum against his blue sweatshirt.

cursing because he knows he's gonna' have to peel that top off before his next class, before anyone can figure out exactly what that stain is, "fuck, we still got 15 minutes before that lecture, yeah? one more, please, baby, jus' one more."

﹙ 夏油傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ philosophy, sociology

"what did i say? eyes on the lenses, pretty girl." geto's determined and mean when he's like this, but then again, when is he not a cunt?

that bitchy nerd's always sniping at you, doing dumb shit like taking your seat in class and sucking up to the teacher — batting pretty, dark lashes at the tutor while throwing a nasty look your way when you get the answer right.

but as of this moment, there aren't any right answers in your head. not when geto's got you propped up in his broad lap. right in front of a blinking video camera, perched on a shaky tripod as he swirls his digits as deep as he can into your pretty, swollen pussy.

"s-sugu', feels so good," you moan, sinking your teeth into the plush flesh of your lower lip as geto's face softens for a split second before hardening once more. handsome features crinkling as he shakes his head of choppy, raven hair, "didn't ask if it felt good, geez. i asked for the answer to the question, or are we jus' having trouble following instructions as well?"

"hate ya' so, so much, still, i don' even remember the fuckin' question," you're sniffling, knowing that he's so deliciously knuckle deep within you right now. your clear, glossy arousal coating his fingers as he pumps the digits in and out of your heat with a satisfying squelch!

geto smiles, as though he wanted you to say that while he was rolling a fat thumb over your clitoral hood. berry lips pulling at the corners as he tuts, using the hand that was previously holding apart your thighs to slide a pristine paper over his bed, clicking his tongue before he intones, "tch', let me quiz you, again, 'cause we got that test tomorrow. though, 'm not sure it's much good. now, how would you explain structural functionalism?"

your mind's absolutely turning to incredible, pleasurable mush as you struggle to form coherent sentences. instead, staring at the blinking red light blearing out through the dark haze of geto's form room, and swallowing as he begins pulling at the sensitive ache of your clit, "it's, like, the premise of everything havin' a purpose. like, hahh, society being a well-oiled machine n' people are jus' cogs and — fuck! suguru, can't even focus like this."

your back is writhing against geto's toned chest, and you can feel the dark strands of hair that have escaped his hairtie tickling at your cheek, "i know, beautiful," he coos, almost as though he quite likes you, rather than the loathing that he claims, "now tell me, who's ideas does structural functionalism align with? answer quick, and i'll make ya' cum this time, promise!"

brain whirring on overtime to snap out a rushed breath, "emile durkheim!" your lips pouting as you heave in a candied breath of air, "that's right, isn't it? now you promised, so please! make me cum, sugu', fuck."

you can hear geto chuckle, "you didn't make me pinky promise, though?" and he's revelling in how you huff, and curse him out, "besides, i like watching you squirm all pretty for the camera. helps me remember my notes so much more. y'know that 'm gonna' go back and revise this later."

﹙ 両面宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ anthropology, history

"you're a virgin?" your mouth parting into a sweet gasp as charlotte tilbury leaves sticky strands of product stringing between your pretty lips. because, there's just no way...

sukuna's rolling his crimson eyes, and shoving his tattooed hands into the ragged pockets of his thick hoodie, "why don't we focus on the project again? y'know that the entire thing is due next week, and this is our last meet-up before we gotta' present?"

the burly, quiet man's clearly flushed — with his tanned cheeks painted awash in some watercolour, blushy hue. muttering something about insolent cheerleaders and how he's refusing to get a bad grade because of you. but you're never one to lose. you just cross your arms over your chest, and a little more firmly on purpose, just to watch sukuna gulp as his gaze drops right down to that shadow of cleavage, "hey, you're the one who asked if i was sleeping with the quarterback."

sukuna's just too easy, because for all his churlish, jerkish attitude, he's not immune at all to your easiest charms. like a pretty red lollipop, or a spritz of your favourite body mist, or when you hike the hem of your skirt up just a little bit higher to doodle faint hearts on your flesh. and now he's grunting, drawing his eyes away from your torso to gulp, training his eyes solely on the project rubric, "yeah. was jus' a question. i don't give a fuck."

"mhm, sure." snapping strawberry gum between your teeth, "because i'm not with him." you grin as sukuna stiffens, almost snapping the poor, thin frame of a cheap lead pencil between his thick fingers.

"no?" he sounds almost, almost sheepish. battered headphones clattering around his marked neck as he jerks, and you almost coo. for it's honestly quiet sweet at how interested he sounds. ironic, considering ryomen sukuna is one of the most surly men on campus. always with his nose buried in some medieval book, always some exemplary paper of his pinned to the student noticeboard about the heian era.

"no," you repeat, scooting just a little bit closer to his broad frame, "because 'm interested in someone else, ya' see. like you, 'kuna."

the pencil snaps, the wood finally giving out to the quick motion of sukuna's fingers clamping down on it. pieces scattering and littering the table as broken lead clutters, the remnants of a man who's just had his world rocked but doesn't want to admit it, "hah, funny," he's muttering, "yer' really interested in me?" all you had murmured was a tempting, alluring little phrase that would remain with sukuna forever, something like, "want me to prove it?"

and that's exactly how you ended up like this. eyes blown wide, little hearts dancing around your pupils as you took in the sheer size and girth of what sukuna was hiding in his faded jeans. lips parting to close over the weeping tip of his thick shaft, and grinning at how there's already sheer, salty drops leaking out.

"fuck, w-wait," sukuna's groaning, with his spiky head of two-toned hair thrown back against your desk chair, "it's sensitive." clacking his sharp teeth around a wanton moan when you tongue at the veins bulging on the sides of his cock, "already feels like 'm gonna –"

"cum?" you offer helpfully, flattening your tongue against him so he throbs, hot and heavy, into your mouth. releasing yourself from his cock with a loud pop! and you're sure glad that your sorority roommates aren't home, for you're not sure how to explain that you're dripping wet yourself, just from sucking off the most infamous, ill-reputed nerd on campus.

"yeah, yeah," sukuna rasps, a heady and low tone that escapes from his chest, "and that would be e-embarrassing, fuck, that's — that's a good spot." sighing as you trail teasing fingers over folded skin, right at the underside of the base of his cock.

"not that embarrassing, 'kuna," you shake your head, loosening the slick strand of saliva that was stringing away from your lips. replacing your mouth with an entirely different type of gloss, and one that you're growing increasingly fond of, "and besides, we got a lotta' time before my roommates come back. plenty of other things we can do, hah."

﹙ ��海建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ economics

"but i jus' think numbers are kind of beautiful, wouldn't you say? like they have their own satisfying figure and precision?"

you smack nanami's chest, leaving a small, cherry hue over your boyfriend's pectorals, "your girlfriend is literally under you, and you're talking about numbers being beautiful."

he gives you an apologetic smile, thick waves of golden hair dampened with the sweat of exertion that was to be expected when he was delivering the sweetest, most loving strokes to your very core. thick, bulging tip kissing your cervix as nanami huffs, "sorry, darling. nothing's more beautiful than my girl, and, heh, yer' figure is the one i love the most."

"that's better," you gasp, feeling him rummage through your swollen pussy. girthy shaft bulging past throbbing, dripping folds as he delivers hit after surefire hit against your g-spot. but then, suddenly, you're frowning, "don't you have class, like, right now, babe?"

nanami squeezes his eyes shut, amber lashes kissing peach-flushed skin. "yeah, had some tutorial," he groans, drawing his cock out of you almost entirely before he's snapping his hips back into you with such force that there's a resounding smack reverberating through his bedroom, "but heh, they don't really need me there. i already know all my shit."

"and you won't get in, i don't know, trouble?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, pushing aside the stack of stock market magazines littered near your head, so he can slam his hand down on the soft quilt. all so nanami can steady himself as he has only one purpose in mind, to make you cum. to make you see such stars of pleasure that you squirt all over his cock. and he can already picture your fucked-out form, hazy and littered with the marks of his loving. and drenched down below.

well, anatomically, it mustn't be possible but at the mere vision, nanami can feel himself harden even more. like his cock is responding to the hypnotising grip that you've got him in. hefty balls tightening further and he's rasping in your ear, "can i —, fuck, can i cum in ya', darling?" desperate and falling apart at the mere idea, at the way your eyes flutter shut in bliss, "only if yer' also wanting me to, i swear. but please –"

"yeah. in me, kento. baby, all yours."

that's all it really takes for thick, stringy wads of hot release to spurt out from nanami's weeping tip. cock releasing strands of gooey seed into your cunt in a way that makes your boyfriend press his forehead against yours, littering a thousand kisses against your fucked-out, smiling lips, "thank you, thank you, thank you, darling. i love you so much. can't even put it into words, but i love you —"

﹙ 伏黒甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ physical education, kinesiology

"what the fuck did you jus' call me, ma?" toji's got a blunt nail trailing down your spine, running over the curve of your ass, "a nerd?"

you're writhing, "yeah, yeah. i mean, that's what everyone says," and it takes every cell in your body to fight back the inevitable release that toji's bestowing upon you. for you're determined to delay this just a little longer, to feel toji's thick cock slam into you from behind over and over in a way that you never really expected from the grumpy sports major.

and it seems the idea amuses him, for you don't even need to turn around to imagine how his sharp, jade-green eyes must be narrowing at the knowledge of what everyone calls toji fushiguro behind his back. how toji's sharp, shark-like grin must be widening, sharpening knives to sink into your shoulder, "why? 'cause i don't do that stupid, attention-seeking sports shit like everyone else in my degree? 'cause i don't wanna' waste my time on the field or in the locker rooms?"

"t-toji, it's 'cause you always got your damn nose in a book. and i didn't even know you could —," you shriek, feeling his burly forearm come up in front of you, past your bouncing breasts to support your weight as he presses further into you, "i honestly didn't even know you could fuckin' read."

"suchhh a nasty attitude, ma," toji chuckles, and your ass pleasurably stings at the resounding smacks echoing through the (thankfully) empty gymnasium. your lace panties pulled to the sides as you're balanced over the bleachers right in the very corner where the lonesome toji fushiguro prefers to sit, where no one else can bother him.

but damn, if he's not getting off on the idea of taking you so prettily like this. don't get him wrong, toji loves this position. loves how nasty and filthy your pretty arch is when he's swabbing his cock against your pussy. but fuck, he also wishes you were flipped around for him. just so he could press a thumb to your lower lip, and watch your eyes go all silly and crossed for him. while he tacked the thick curl of dark hair around his groin to your sticky, throbbing clit. battered your pretty cunt with his inches until that feisty lil' attitude melted away into sugar and cream.

you moan, such a wanton sound, when toji's thick fingers are climbing up your throat. past your jaw to settle at your mouth. pushing past your lip so you can drool so beautifully for him as he does his level best to at least regretfully silence the sexy sounds falling out of your lips.

"careful, ma," toji shudders, feeling the tight heat of your cunt snatch his soul away, "wanna' keep the volume down so those rocks-for-brains football players don't hear what's going on here. unless, you want them to see how the nerd's practically plowing your brains out, hah."

the resulting clench of your cunt tells toji all that he needs to know, and he has to bite back the furious blush crawling over him, underneath his faded varsity jacket, "oh? that's how it is? well, okay then. hold on."

﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ lab medicine, psychology

you know better than to sass choso when he's like this, the night before the final semester exam. see, because the man's got your thighs splayed so prettily out for him. glistening, and dripping all over his bedspread. and to the side, he's got that damn anatomy textbook flipped open.

choso's frustrated, sighing and flicking the pads of his fingers against his tongue to thumb at the sticking pages. rolling his eyes when he isn't able to find the passage that he wants, as if that's your fault. but you don't miss the hungry gleam in the raven-haired man's eyes, the spiky knots atop his head coming loose as he delves right back into his favourite meal. his favourite study snack being your glossy cunt, for he could munch on the slick strands forever.

"bear with me, my love," choso's cooing, trailing a slender, pale finger up your sticky folds until he comes to rest at your clit. tapping the throbbing bud once, "jus' gotta' memorise this, and you're helping me so much."

he's pressing a chaste, quaint kiss to your pulsing clit. that dark mark stretched across his face twitching as he murmurs, "ah, think, choso! right, the clitoral glans has, hmm, 8000 nerve endings. and it leads up to..." choso's drawing slow, teasing circles on your clit and it makes you whine, bucking your hips, "patience, my love. i'll reward you extra special for helpin' me out like this. now, it leads up to the clitoral shaft — and did i tell ya' what the crura is?"

you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you rut against choso's handsome nose for some delicious friction, and he clearly seems eager to indulge you, though he's still lost in academic thought, "right. i guess, baby, you could say the crura are kinda' like the legs for the clitoris. and they extend allll along the pelvic bones."

choso's marvelling the glossy, sheer slick coating his fingers. licking a flat stripe right against your swollen, eager cunt, "and the glans, well, my extended answer needs to mention how they, uh, damn, baby. you're soaked." he's shaking his head again, "i keep getting distracted. the glans — they're the ones with the alpha-delta, and c-fibres, and that's what makes you feel so good. transmitting sensations y'see, i get extra marks for mentioning that."

you hazard a glance to the shining pages of the new textbook that choso's kept on his shelf all semester, "and the, uh, the pudendal reflex? you got a sticky note on that one, babe?"

choso smiles, slowly flicking your clitoral hood in up and down motions, each movement sending simmering pleasure through your groin, "a spinal reflex, m'love. helps with the involuntary muscle contractions, like when i do this —," flatting the pad of his thumb against your clit to run tighter circles against the aching nub, watching as your hips jolt up further against his face. coating the lower half of his features in translucent arousal.

"now, my favourite part," choso says, grinning as he turns his attentions elsewhere, to your dripping entrance pooling such a mess over his sheets. and your boyfriend's tugging at his grey sweatpants, "the grafenberg spot. i don't think my fingers will be enough to stimulate it properly."

7K notes · View notes

loveritas · 3 months ago

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Ft. Ayato ノ Alhaitham ノ Wanderer ノ Childe ノ Wriothesley ノ Neuvillette

sum: things you do that unintentionally turn them on. wc: 14k - roughly 2k - 2.5k per part

contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in alhaitham's), oral (reader givingノreceiving), fingering, come swallowing, handjob in wrio's, mentions of pregnancy/breeding kink in ayato's, out in the open for wanderer's but not caught, 69 in neuvillette's + he carries you

a/n: i liked this until i didn't, which is awkward :')

જ⁀ when he loses to you in a debate - 2k

It felt like the hundredth time that day you’d torn his argument to pieces, your words sharp and precisely calculated. Alhaitham leaned back, eyeing you with a narrowed gaze as he re-evaluated every point you made, searching desperately for a flaw. But there wasn’t one—and that infuriated him.

He was accustomed to being the sharpest mind in the room, to dissecting others’ logic with ease. Yet here you were, dismantling his points without breaking a sweat, meeting him step for step. It should have annoyed him beyond measure. And yet…

His pulse quickened, and he could feel his focus drifting, thoughts derailing as you delivered yet another rebuttal with a slight, victorious curl of your lips. There was a fire in your eyes, a self-assurance that both irritated and exhilarated him, pulling him into an awareness that had little to do with intellectual sparring.

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, from the determined glint in your eyes to the way your lips formed around each sharp, defiant word. His jaw clenched, and he felt that familiar frustration morph into something else, something darker, something primal.

“Nothing to say?” you prodded with a smug smile, savouring your apparent win. “That’s not like you, Alhaitham.”

His eyes darkened. For a second, the composed mask slipped, and the heat simmering beneath flickered to the surface. “I could argue,” he replied, his voice low, dangerously calm. “But it seems you’re enjoying this far too much.”

The bitterness in his voice was laced with something else, something unwilling—an almost grudging respect. You’d pushed him to the edge, stripped him of his usual control, and a part of him both resented and admired your nerve. But there was no denying it: you were driving him insane.

A charged silence hung between you, and he felt it—the heat radiating from your body, the steady rhythm of your breath, so close he could feel it. His own thoughts had scattered, leaving him with nothing but the ache of desire he was no longer able to ignore. Alhaitham stood taller, his expression hardening as his gaze settled on your lips, then drifted back to meet your eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” he murmured, his voice roughened by tension. But the bite was gone from his tone, replaced by something unspoken, something magnetic.

Suddenly, he moved, his body pressing you back against the bookshelf, his hands bracketing you, and every other word disappeared from his mind. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper in your ear. “You think you’re so clever,” he said, his fingers tracing along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, “always knowing just what to say to get under my skin.”

You felt his other hand slide down, coming to rest on your hip as he drew you closer. Every inch of his lean frame was now flush against you, his erection pressing insistently through the layers between you. The last of his restraint was slipping, replaced by a raw intensity that left no space for pretences.

His lips grazed along your neck, each touch sending a shudder of heat through you as his breath came hot and uneven while he slipped a hand under your shirt, fingers trailing possessively over skin that was bare. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting against your neck. “Pushing me, daring me. Now, let’s see just how far you can go.”

In a single, bruising kiss, he claimed your mouth, his hands now exploring the lines and curves of your body with a feverish hunger, mapping out every reaction he’d managed to draw from you. His kiss was fierce and commanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he tasted every inch of you, unravelling the last threads of your composure.

With one swift movement, he spun you around, pressing your front against the bookshelf. A few books tumbled from the shelves, forgotten in the heat building between you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against your shoulder, his voice low and dark. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered, rough with need, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt, fingertips trailing against your skin. “All this time, getting under my skin… has it been driving you mad, too?”

Alhaitham’s hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the warmth radiating through the thin damp fabric of your underwear. A quiet groan escapes him, a sound rough with desire, as he felt your wetness, his own anticipation building with every heartbeat.

"You're so fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His fingers slip under the fabric, sliding through your slick folds. "All this time, you've been getting off on our arguments, haven't you? Getting yourself all worked up, imagining me bending you over and fucking you in my office."

He circles your clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he works you over with his skilled fingers.

"I bet you've touched yourself thinking about me," he continues, his words filthy and raw. "Imagined my cock splitting you open, making you moan my name.”

“Shut up, you talk too much-” you mumble.

Alhaitham chuckles darkly at your mumbled plea, his fingers still working between your legs. "No no-. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me how much you need my cock."

He thrusts two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes your knees weak. His thumb rubs tight circles around your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come on, angel. Use that clever tongue of yours for something other than arguing with me. Beg for it."

His other hand slides up under your shirt, roughly palming one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, a gasp falling from your lips.

"Or maybe you'd rather I stop altogether? Leave you here, dripping and desperate, with nothing to satisfy you but your own fingers?"

He slows his movements, letting the threat hang in the air. Your hips buck back against him, seeking more friction, more pressure. You're so close, and yet he holds all the power to send you over.

"What's it gonna be, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and tell me what you want?”

"Please, need it-"

Alhaitham's fingers still inside you at your breathy plea, your desperate words sending a thrill through him. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks, "There we go.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly, teasingly. You whimper at the loss, your hips pushing back, seeking to be filled again.

"Ah ah," he tuts, his hand resting on your ass. "Patience. You'll get what you need.”

He steps back, leaving you bent over the bookshelf and aching for him. He undoes his belt, along with the zipper. He approaches his desk drawer, rummaging through before he settles back behind you. You hear the crinkle of foil, the snap of latex, and then the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

Alhaitham runs it along your slit, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. He drags the tip through your folds, covering himself in your sticky arousal.

"Look at you, wanting it so badly," he taunts, his voice a low growl.

He pushes forward, just the tip breaching you, stretching you open. Your walls flutter around him, trying to draw him in deeper.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckles darkly, slowly sinking into your heat inch by excruciating inch.

He bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, savouring the feel of your tight walls clenching around him.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and purposeful. He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes.

"That's it-" he encourages, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock like the good girl you are."

His hand snakes around to your front, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

Alhaitham sets a deep, punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each thrust. The bookcase rocks under the force of his movements; books tumble to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

He leans over you, a hand closing on your hip as his cock drives into you relentlessly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your toes curl.

He picks up the pace, fucking into you harder and faster now, chasing his own release. Skin slapping against skin fills the room with an obscene sound, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

He buries his face in your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he pounds into you, lost in the feeling of your hot, wet walls clenching around him.

His fingers closed tight around your hips, pinning you down as he thrust with a fervour that made you cling to the bookshelf. “Fuck, I’m close-" he groaned, his voice thick with restraint. And just when you thought he’d let go, he pulled away, leaving you empty and aching, the heat between you simmering in the air.

Before you could protest, he spun you around, lifting you onto the edge of his desk. He pushes your legs apart, settling between your thighs once more.

"Wanna’ see your face," he growls, his voice rough with desire.

He lines himself up, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. Then, with one swift thrust, he's buried inside you again, filling you completely.

He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with wild abandon. The desk creaked beneath you with each powerful thrust, papers slipping off in a messy cascade to the floor.

He pressed into you, his weight grounding you in place as his lips found yours in a fierce, consuming kiss that left you breathless. When he finally broke away, his mouth traced a heated path down your neck, lips and teeth grazing over your skin, each touch both a promise and a tease. His hips never stop moving, pounding into you with a frenzied energy.

"Come for me," he demands, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. "I want to feel you come apart on my cock."

He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight, fast circles, the added stimulation sending you spiralling towards the edge.

Your walls start to flutter, Your breaths are fast and uneven, your body trembling, teetering just on the edge. “Come on,” he murmured, his movements growing less controlled, more desperate, as he felt his own resolve slipping. “Let go… let me feel you.”

With a final, brutal thrust, he sends you flying over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure washing through your body. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the aftershocks.

Alhaitham follows shortly after, his cock pulsing inside you as he finds his own release. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan against your skin.

You both collapse onto the desk, panting and spent, bodies still joined in the aftermath of your passionate encounter.

"Maybe we should have debates more often...." you joke breathlessly.

"Only if it ends like this." he mutters tirelessly as he leans in, his lips meeting yours.

જ⁀ when you argue with him - 2.5k

“Do you ever think before you act?” you snapped, standing so close to Childe that the heat radiating from him matched your own.

His jaw tightened, and he leaned in, voice rising to meet yours. “Don’t lecture me about thinking ahead! If you’d just trusted me for once, we wouldn’t even need a backup plan!”

“Trust you?” You let out a harsh, bitter laugh, meeting his glare without flinching. “How am I supposed to trust you when you treat this like some game? People could have gotten hurt, Childe! This isn’t just your reckless thrill.”

He scoffed, but something in his eyes softened, though it was quickly swallowed by the intensity burning there. "You think I take this lightly? It’s so damn frustrating to have you question every move I make."

You took another step closer, your heart beating faster as the air between you grew heavier, alive with unspoken tension. "I question your moves because they're reckless, Childe. Because you act like you're the only one who matters!

"That's what you think?" he growled, his voice was low and furious. "That I don't care what happens to the people around me?"

For a moment, there was something raw in his eyes—open and wounded—but you pushed the feeling aside, refusing to let him derail you. "You say you care, but you're so caught up in your ego that you can't see past your own reflection.".

"Ego?" He snorted, but his eyes were wild, almost electric, and he leaned in closer to you, the space between you evaporating. "You're one to talk! Acting like you know everything, like I can't do a single thing out there without you hovering over my shoulder."

“Because I have to! If I don’t, you’d—” Your voice wavered as you became acutely aware of just how close he was, his face inches from yours. His eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering for the faintest beat before they snapped back to meet yours.

And that’s when it struck you—his cheeks were flushed, his gaze burning with something more than just anger. The tension between you wasn’t just frustration; there was a heat simmering beneath it all, sparking like a fuse, and you could feel it as clearly as the breath between you.

This wasn’t just anger. The challenge, the fight, you standing toe-to-toe with him—it had him caught up in something else entirely.

You sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily thrown. “Are… are you enjoying this?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, incredulous.

Childe didn't even try to hide it; his eyes softened, and a smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his voice low and charged. "Maybe I am," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Didn't think you had this much fire in you.".

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks. “This isn’t funny, Childe. I’m trying to get through to you, and you’re—”

“Oh, I’m listening,” he cut in, his voice dropping even lower, rougher. “But I can’t help it if seeing you like this… gets me a little fired up.” His eyes gleamed with a challenging spark, as if daring you to push him further, to keep pushing back.

Your breath caught, but you refused to back down, even as you felt the air between you grow thick with an intensity that was no longer just anger. “You’re… unbelievable,” you managed, your voice wavering slightly.

Childe’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he took that final, daring step closer. His hand found your jaw, fingers brushing your skin with a touch that was both gentle and possessive. For a heartbeat, the only sound between you was your own uneven breathing as his gaze flicked once more to your lips, lingering there.

“I’m unbelievable, am I?” he murmured, voice barely a breath, but carrying enough intensity to make your pulse race even faster.

"I-"

Before you could respond, his lips met yours with a raw intensity that sent a jolt through you. The kiss was anything but restrained—urgent, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and was finally letting go. His fingers tightened around your jaw, his other hand slipping to your waist to pull you in close, eliminating any trace of space between you.

You matched his intensity, pressing back just as fiercely, your hands finding his shoulders and gripping tight as you poured every ounce of pent-up frustration, tension, and maybe something more into the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into nothing as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that left you breathless.

Childe groaned low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. He broke away from your mouth just long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You drive me crazy," he growled against your throat, his voice rough with need. "Always questioning me, always pushing back. It's fucking hot."

His hands glide along your sides, lifting your shirt in one fluid motion and discarding it as his eyes roamed over you, dark with desire. He paused just briefly, letting the sight of you linger, before his mouth found you again, tracing the curves of your chest with lips and tongue, his fingers deftly working to free you from your bra.

You arched into his touch, head falling back as pleasure sparked through you. Your own hands worked frantically at his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Ajax," you gasped out, your voice breathy and wanton. "Please..."

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Please what?" he murmured, nipping at your collarbone. "I wanna hear you say it."

You swallowed hard, your mind hazy with desire. "I want you," you managed, your voice trembling. "I want you to fuck me, please-”

He captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against his already hard cock. You could feel the heat of him even through the layers of clothing that still separated you.

"I need you," Childe rasped against your lips, his hips rolling against yours in a slow grind. "Right fucking now."

He guided you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed, the heated kiss unbroken. He slid down on top of you in one fluid motion, pressing you down onto the bed as he moved with you, pinning you under him, his eyes dark and intense as he took you in. His chest rose and fell with a few heavy breaths as he steadied himself.

"This is your last chance to back out," he whispered, his voice low and rough-edged. "Because once I start, I won't stop until I've had every bit of you."

Your eyes met his, soft and misty with anticipation as the unspoken answer hung in the charged space between you.

"I don't want you to stop," you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into another kiss. "I want everything you've got-"

With a feral growl, his hands made quick work of the remaining barriers between you. Childe's fingers hooked into your waistband and yanked your trousers and panties down in one swift motion. His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of you, splayed out beneath him, completely bare. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

He settled between your thighs, the heat of his bare skin against your most sensitive parts making you gasp. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thighs, brushing maddeningly close to where you needed him most.

"Please," you whimpered, arching your hips in search of more friction. "Ajax, I need-"

“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a finger softly over your lips. "Just relax… let me take care of you." His voice was just a lulling hum, low and comforting.

He lowered his head and traced a slow, tantalising path up your inner thigh with his tongue, each inch a deliberate tease. A shiver coursed through you, your fingers clutching the sheets as he inched closer to your core, building anticipation with every lingering touch.

When his tongue finally ran along your slit, you cried out, your back bowing off the bed. His tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you with a hunger that bordered on feral. Two fingers pushed inside you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way.

"That's it, let me hear you," Childe growled against your skin, his words sending vibrations straight to your core. "Fuck, you taste so good. I could eat this sweet little pussy all day."

He worked you relentlessly, his fingers curling inside you just right, his tongue flicking mercilessly over your clit. It wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge, thighs trembling around him as your fingers tangled desperately in his hair.

His mouth moved over you with a hungry intensity, each slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue sending sparks racing through you, making your hips roll instinctively to meet his every movement.

Your arousal slicked his lips and chin as he held you close, his fingers working in tandem, pressing into you and curling just right to reach that deep, electric spot that made you lose all sense of restraint. The pleasure built steadily, his every touch pushing you closer to the point of no return, your entire body drawn taut in anticipation.

The obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy, the squelch of his fingers inside you, the filthy slurps and moans he made as he ate you out - it was almost too much to bear.

He groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you buck and writhe beneath him. His free hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, pinning you in place as he kept up his relentless assault on your clit.

Your thighs were shaking violently as your muscles tensed and coiled tight with your approaching orgasm. Childe sensed it too, doubling his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit as he finger-fucked you harder, faster.

"Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against your soaked folds. "Let me feel you come undone on my tongue. Fucking soak me, baby.”

With a hoarse cry, you shattered, your body convulsing as wave upon wave of searing pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, your arousal slick on his chin, dripping down onto the sheets beneath him.

Childe groaned low in his throat, lapping at your release as if it were the finest ambrosia, wringing the last drop of pleasure from your body until you lay still beneath him.

He slowly pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He licked his lips, savouring your taste with a satisfied hum. “Tastes so fucking sweet.”

He crawled up your body, settling between your thighs once more. You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, making you clench with anticipation.

"I need to be inside you," Childe growled, his voice strained with need. "Need to feel this tight little cunt squeezing my cock."

He reached down, gripping himself and rubbing the swollen head of his cock through your slick folds. You whimpered, your hips canting up, trying to force him inside.

"Please," you begged, your voice wrecked and desperate. "Ajax, I need you. Need you so fucking bad."

With a low groan, he pushed forward, sinking into your wet heat inch by inch. You both moaned at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Childe panted, his hips rolling in shallow thrusts as he let you adjust to him. "Feels so good, baby. So fucking good."

Once you'd both adjusted, he started to move, pulling out slowly before snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you. He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that made the bed creak and your body jolt with each powerful thrust.

Childe's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your legs up and back towards your chest, folding you nearly in half. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper inside you, hitting spots you didn't even know existed.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch of my cock."

You could do no more than moan incoherently, hands scrabbling at the sheets. The feeling of him so deep inside you, stretching you, filling you, was almost too much to bear.

"You like that, don't you?" Childe panted, strained with exertion.

"Like having me so fucking deep inside you." He punctuated each filthy word with a sharp snap of his hips, driving into you so hard that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as another orgasm crashed over you, your walls clamping down around him like a vice.

"Shit, baby," Childe growled, his rhythm faltering as he fought to hold back his own release. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna- gonna make me cum if you keep doing that."

But you were too far gone to care, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure consuming you. All you could do was hold on for dear life as Childe fucked you through your orgasm, his cock hitting your deepest spots with every thrust, pushing you higher and higher until you were sure you'd black out from the intensity of it all.

Childe's thrusts grew erratic, his fingers digging into your ankles as he chased his own release.

His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside you as he found his peak. You felt the hot rush of his cum painting your walls, claiming you from the inside out.

A low, shuddering groan escaped him as the intensity of his release rippled through his body. And for a long, quiet moment, neither of you moved, basking in the dying warmth and soft haze of satisfaction.

The weight of Childe pressed against you as he lowered your legs back down. His warm breath on your shoulder as he stayed inside of you. He slowly lifted his head, eyes locked with yours. For that one moment, there was something soft in his eyes—something almost tender—the softness he mostly protected.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he muttered, his voice low and warm.

A smile played at your lips as you looked up at him, quiet happiness filling your eyes. "Not too bad yourself," you teased, reaching up to rest your hand against his cheek, your thumb tracing a light path along his jawline. "For a reckless, ego-driven, pain in the ass."

Childe laughed, leaning into your touch with a shameless grin. "I think you meant to say charming, irresistible, and exceptionally skilled in bed," he corrected, a roguish glint firing in his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe that too," you whispered, pulling him into a soft, dragged-out kiss, basking in the wordless connection that ran between you.

જ⁀ seeing you do domestic things - 2.4k

Ayato leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his eyes focused on you as you worked. The soft light of the afternoon filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on the scene in front of him. You were humming quietly to yourself as you stirred the pot on the hob, moving with a quiet grace that Ayato could only admire.

It wasn’t just the domesticity of the moment that caught his attention—it was the way you made it look so effortless, the way you fit so naturally into his life, his home. You were already making the space feel like it was your joint space, your presence breathing life into the place, and Ayato found himself growing more and more captivated by the thought of this becoming a permanent reality.

You glanced up, catching him watching you, and a teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you going to help?"

Ayato stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’d rather just watch you, honestly,” he said smoothly, his voice thick with desire. “It’s hard to look away when you make something as simple as cooking look so… irresistible.”

You laughed lightly, but his eyes stayed locked on you, the intensity of his gaze deepening with each passing second. You continued with your work, though something about the way he was looking at you made your pulse quicken.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity in your voice.

He moved closer, placing his hands casually on the counter beside you, his body barely separate from yours. “You,” he said bluntly, his voice dropping lower. “Watching you cook, has me thinking about our future together… it’s making it impossible to focus.”

You paused, raising an eyebrow. “A future together?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the implication. “Like what?”

Ayato’s lips curled into a confident, knowing smile. “Like this. You, in our home, doing all these wifely things, making our space feel warm and lived-in…” His voice was laced with a quiet heat as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear. “I can already see it—us—with kids running around, your laugh filling the halls, hearing the sound of little feet chasing each other.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you froze for a moment, feeling his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His chest pressed against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat—a steady rhythm that matched the rapid pace of your own.

Ayato didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips captured yours in a kiss—slow at first, but quickly turning deeper as his hands slid around to your back, pulling you even closer. His desire was palpable, every movement of his hands speaking louder than his words ever could.

When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, his hands still on you as he looked down at you with a knowing smile. “I can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse. “Seeing you like this, talking about our future… I want it, more than anything. And I want you... right here, right now.” His eyes darkened with desire. “I can’t stop thinking about it—thinking about you.”

You shivered at his words, your chest tightening with anticipation. His boldness, his forwardness—it wasn’t something you were used to seeing from Ayato, and yet in this moment, it made your heart race. You felt the weight of his desire, the rawness of it, and it ignited something in you as well.

He didn’t wait for you to respond, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands sliding along the curves of your body with a sense of urgency. “You’re going to drive me mad if you keep looking at me like that,” he growled. “I can already picture it, I want it all.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, and without thinking, you pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely, giving into the heat between you. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you up against him as his desire burned hotter.

And as he kissed you with an intensity you hadn’t expected, you realised that this wasn’t just about the moment. It was about the future you were both already imagining together—the family, the home, the life—and Ayato was determined to make that future as real as possible.

The thought of a life together, full of passion, warmth, and the sound of children’s laughter echoing through your shared home, consumed him completely. And as he held you close, he knew he would stop at nothing to make that future a reality.

Ayato's hands slide down your sides, his touch igniting sparks wherever he touches. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. "I want you so badly," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to make you mine in every way possible."

His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he starts to tug it upward, his fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach. You shiver at his touch, arching into him as he leans down to trail kisses along your collarbone.

"I can't wait to see you round with my child," he breathes against your skin, his hand splaying across your belly. "To know that I put them there."

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the kitchen counter, and with a swift movement, he lifts you onto it, stepping between your parted thighs.

"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promises, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

The intensity of Ayato's desire is palpable as he stands between your parted thighs, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin as he slowly strips away your clothing, revealing more and more of you to his appreciative eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "So perfect."

His fingers trace the curve of your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples until they harden under his touch. You gasp, arching into him, craving more of his touch. He obliges, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on your breasts. His other hand slides down your stomach.

Ayato's hand slides down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your panties. You gasp at the contact, your hips lifting instinctively seeking more of his touch. He chuckles lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"So eager," he teases, his fingers slipping lower, brushing against your slick folds.

He circles your clit with a feather-light touch, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. Your head falls back against the counter, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself to the sensation of his skilled fingers.

"Please," you breathe, your hips rolling against his hand, seeking more friction.

Ayato obliges, sliding a finger inside you, then another, pumping them in and out of your pussy. Your inner walls clench around him, drawing him deeper.

"That's it, sweetheart," he encourages, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. "Let me make you feel good."

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl. You cry out, your grip on his hair tightening as pleasure courses through your veins.

"You're so tight," he groans, his own arousal evident in the way his hips grind against yours. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

He adds a third finger, stretching you, preparing you for what's to come. Your body trembles on the edge of release, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

Ayato's fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more friction, more pressure. You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

"That's it, beautiful," Ayato muses, "Look so pretty like this-"

His words, combined with the skillful movements of his fingers, are enough to send you over the edge. Your body tenses, your back arching off the counter as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, your inner walls clenching around Ayato's fingers as you ride out the intense sensations.

Ayato doesn't stop, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. As you start to come down from your high, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet," he murmurs, licking your essence from his fingers. "I could do that forever if you let me."

Before you can catch your breath, he's removing his own clothes, not taking long to reveal his hard, throbbing cock.

"Need to be inside you-" he groans, his hands gripping your hips. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."

He steps between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.

Ayato slowly pushes into you, his cock stretching you deliciously. You moan at the sensation of being filled, your walls clenching around him. He groans at the tight heat enveloping him, his hips pressing forward until he's fully seated inside you.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. "So perfect."

He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the embers of your desire once more.

Ayato's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust designed to bring you maximum pleasure. His hands roam over your body, caressing every curve and dip as he loses himself in the feel of you.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."

His words, coupled with the tender way he makes love to you, bring tears to your eyes. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him.

"Show me," you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair. "Show me how much you love me."

Ayato's response is to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he continues to move within you. The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you're sharing.

"I'll always love you," he vows against your lips. "Always."

As he speaks, his thrusts become more urgent, more passionate. You can feel the coil of pleasure building once more in your core, your body responding to his every move.

Ayato's thrusts become more urgent, more passionate, as he loses himself in the feel of you. But even as he chases his own pleasure, his mind is filled with thoughts of the future, of the life you'll build together.

"I want this," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want us, together, forever. I want to wake up next to you every morning, to come home to you every night."

His hand slides down to your stomach, pressing gently against the soft skin. "I want to see you round with my child, to watch you grow and change as our family grows."

The thought sends a shiver of excitement through you, and you cling to him tighter, your hips meeting his thrust for thrust. “I want that too-”

Ayato's response is a low growl, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he pounds into you, chasing his release.

Ayato's thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, as he chases his climax. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he drives into you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every stroke.

"I'm close," he grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I want to fill you up, to mark you as mine."

His words send a thrill through you, and you clench around him, urging him on. "Yes," you gasp, "Please-"

With a final, powerful thrust, Ayato buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his cum deep inside you. The sensation of his hot release triggers your own orgasm.

As Ayato empties himself inside you, your walls clench and flutter around his cock, milking him for every last drop. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your juices gush around his length, coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck, yes," Ayato groans, his hips twitching as he feels your release, his hips grinding against yours as he rides out the waves of pleasure. "Take it all, baby. Take all of me."

He continues to thrust shallowly, drawing out your climax, his own cock pulsing with aftershocks. Your inner walls ripple around him, squeezing him tightly as you ride out the intense sensations.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and appreciative. "So perfect, like you were made for me, weren't you?"

As the last waves of pleasure subside, Ayato leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you as his own. You moan into the kiss, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you've just shared. Ayato's hands roam over your body, caressing your curves, your skin still slick with sweat.

"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."

You smile against his mouth, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you too," you whisper back. "Always and forever."

જ⁀ when you take care of him - 1.9k

Wriothesley leaned back against the pillows, a picture of reluctant vulnerability—a rare sight, his usual sharp confidence dulled by the grip of a stubborn cold. He’d fought tooth and nail to convince you he didn’t need anyone fussing over him, but his protests had crumbled under your firm insistence. So now, he was stuck with you at his bedside, his gruff pride no match for your stubborn resolve.

You place a tray alongside him, holding soup, and a few other remedies. "Alright, let's get you sorted," you said, scooping up a spoonful of broth and extending it toward him.

He looked back at you, his brow furrowed with stubborn defiance, but you only hitched an eyebrow in silence.

He let out a long, aggrieved sigh and grumbled under his breath before he leaned forward and took the spoonful, holding it longer in his mouth than was really necessary, his eyes latched onto yours. His cheeks already flushed with fever, coloured a fraction darker, but he acted like he didn't notice.

"See? That wasn't so bad," you teased your voice soft as you reached up to sweep a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

His jaw clenched, and he cleared his throat, looking away as if the ceiling had suddenly become fascinating. Something about the way you touched him-so gentle, so deliberate-had him feeling unstably off-balance.

His pulse raced, a heat coiling low in his stomach, that left an evident reaction under the blankets that he desperately tried to will away. Mortified by his reaction, he reached for a cushion and shifted it onto his lap, with forced nonchalance.

"You don't need to babysit me," he grumbled, his voice hoarse, and he refused to meet your gaze. "I'll be alright. You've got much more important things to attend to."

“Oh, nice try,” you replied with a wry smile, holding another spoonful toward him. “You’re stuck with me until I’m satisfied that you’re actually resting. So stop pretending you’re not secretly grateful.”

His lips parted, but whatever retort he’d planned died on his tongue as he met your gaze. There was no teasing in your eyes now, only a quiet tenderness that made his chest tighten. You cared-truly-and it was overwhelming in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Why are you doing all this?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, giving away a flicker of something unguarded.

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the skin that flushed there. "Because you deserve it," you said, so simply. "Even if you're too stubborn to admit it."

He inhaled sharply, his hold on the cushion tightening as the touch of your hand warmed through him and sent a jolt of something far from comforting through him. His mind was racing as the tension betrayed his attempts to keep composed. The hell is wrong with him? He thought. This isn't supposed to feel like… this.

But you noticed. The way his jaw tensed, the subtle shift under the blankets—it was impossible to miss. A mischievous spark lit up in your eyes, and you leaned in just a fraction closer.

“Wrio,” you murmured, your tone laced with playful curiosity. “Are you… turned on right now?”

His head whipped toward you, his wide eyes betraying his panic. “What—no! I mean… maybe? Fuck, I don’t know,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.

You bit back a grin, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “Aww,” you cooed, your voice teasing. “The big, tough Warden, all flustered over a little care? How adorable.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his face burning crimson as he glared at you—though the heat in his gaze betrayed something far less menacing. "It's not like that."

"Oh, really?" you said, leaning in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Then what is it like, Wriothesley?"

He swallowed, his eyes darting to yours before dropping again. "It's... it's nothing," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "Just a stupid physical reaction, that's all."

"Mmm, I see," you hummed, reaching out to trace a finger down his jawline. "And by that, what you're trying to tell me is that right now it's not crossing your mind how nice it would feel to be taken care of by someone else? Make you feel better?"

He let out a shaking breath as his eyes darkened to meet yours. "I- I don't." he stammered, words trailing off as he fought for a coherent thought.

"It's alright," you whispered, a small smile on your lips. "I can see it in your eyes, Wriothesley. You want this, don't you? You want me to make you feel good."

His breath hitched, and his chest began to rise and fall more and more rapidly as he stared at you, pupils dilated with arousal. "Yes," he breathed, his voice rough from need. "God, yes, I do."

Your heart was racing, your own desire a mirror of his while you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. "Then let me take care of you," you murmured.

He emitted a low groan; his body quivered in anticipation. "Please," he whispered, voice raw with need. "Please, I need you."

You reached underneath the duvet, your fingers tracing over his hot skin, tracing the lines of his toned stomach. He shivered beneath your touch, breathing in short, ragged gasps as you explored his body.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips bucking up against your hand. "That feels so good."

You smirked, your fingers dipping lower, teasing the waistband of his boxers. "Is that so?" you purred, your eyes glinting with mischief.

As you freed his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers you couldn't help but marvel at the sight. His cock, thick and hard, proudly standing to attention. A drop of precum glistened from the tip of his cock, his need evident.

You swirled your thumb around the head, smearing the slick fluid and drawing a shudder from Wriothesley. "Mmm, look at you," you purred, low and husky.

He let out a choked noise, eyes fluttering shut as he fisted his hands in the sheets.

"Please," he pleaded, voice raw with need. "Please, touch me."

You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke from base to tip. His cock twitched in your hand, another drop of precum beading at the slit. He bucked against your hand, his hips rocking in time with your movements.

"That's it," you murmured, your thumb swiping over the sensitive head of his cock. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

He nodded, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to your touch. His body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as you worked him over.

You smirked, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the head of his cock. He shuddered beneath you, his hands fisting in your hair as you licked a slow stripe up his length.

"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.

With that, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down. He let out a strangled cry, his hips thrusting up to meet your movements.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, taking him deeper, your nose nestling into the hair at the base of his cock. He was throbbing in your mouth, his precum coating your tongue as you worked him over.

"Fuck-" he gasped, voice ragged with pleasure. "Your mouth feels amazing."

You hummed around his shaft, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

As you continued to suck and lick at Wriothesley's throbbing cock, your free hand drifted lower, cupping his heavy balls. You rolled them gently in your palm, feeling their weight, savouring the way they twitched at your touch.

Wriothesley let out a low groan, his hips bucking up into your mouth. "Fuck, that feels good," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

You hummed in return, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Your fingers massaged his balls, delicate flesh kneaded as you worked him over.

He was leaking steadily now, his precum coating your tongue as you sucked him deeper. The taste of him filled your senses: musky, masculine. It was intoxicating - your own arousal growing with each passing second.

"God-" he panted, his hands fisting in your hair. "I'm getting close."

You redoubled your efforts, your head bobbing faster as you took him to the back of your throat. Your fingers squeezed his balls, feeling them draw up even tighter as his climax approached.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You moaned around his shaft, the vibrations pushing him over the edge. With one final thrust of his hips, he exploded in your mouth, ropes of cum filling your throat as he cried out in ecstasy.

You swallowed it all, milking him through his orgasm until he was spent and trembling beneath you. Finally, you released him from your mouth, licking your lips as you pulled back.

As Wriothesley came down from his high, you couldn't help but tease him just a little bit more.

You lightly ran your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock, licking up the last of his release. He shuddered beneath you, his over-sensitive flesh twitching at every light touch.

"Ah!" he gasped, jerking his hips without meaning to. "Too much, I can't—"

You smirked, eyes glinting with mischief as you continued your sweet torment. Your tongue swirled around the tip and he whimpered, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tried to push you away, but you held firm, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his spent body.

"I could do this all day." you purred, breath hot against his skin.

He let out a strangled laugh, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're a fucking tease," he grumbled, but there was no real heat behind his words.

You smiled, giving the head of his cock one final kiss before releasing him from your mouth. Sitting back, you licked your lips as you took in the view he presented-flush-cheeked, panting, eyes glossed over with satisfaction.

"Someone's gotta take care of you," you murmured, your voice husky. "And I'm more than willing to volunteer for the job."

You leaned down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Wriothesley's lips. He sighed into the kiss, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer. It was a tender moment, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had come before.

You drew back, staring into his eyes, the warmth and affection glowing within. "How are you feeling?" you asked, softly. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, and he smiled. His hand came up to overlay yours. "Better," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Much better, thanks to you."

You leaned in, nuzzling his nose with yours. "I aim to please," you teased, your eyes sparkling merrily.

He chuckled and shook his head in mock exasperation. "You're hopeless" he mumbled, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his tone.

જ⁀ seeing you wearing his clothes - 2.6k

Neuvillette opened the door, exhaling softly as he stepped into the quiet of his home. After a day full of formalities, courtroom battles, and endless patience, the relief of finally being in his own space was palpable.

He set his coat aside, running a hand through his hair to loosen the constraints of his usually perfect appearance. But as he looked up, whatever was left of his exhaustion was washed clean by the sight of you curled up on the couch in one of his shirts.

You looked up and smiled softly, but the sight of you in his clothes, settled comfortably into his personal space, had him frozen in place. The shirt fell just a little too loose on your frame, sleeves slipping past your wrists, and the hem brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough to spark his desire. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the fabric, mingling with your own warmth, making something in him stir deeply.

A glint of intensity appeared in his eyes as he took a slow step forward, watching as your expression shifted, noticing the effect you’d unknowingly had on him. His gaze grew darker, the usual restraint crumbling as he drank in the sight of you in his clothes—his shirt, on you.

“You… have no idea what that does to me,” he murmured, his voice deepening with a possessive edge as he came to stand over you. His eyes roamed slowly from the collar falling off one shoulder to your bare legs curled beneath you.

Before you could respond, he was leaning down, caging you in his arms, his hands gripping the back of the couch as he hovered close, his breath warm against your ear. “It suits you, you know,” he whispered, his voice a blend of softness and possessive heat. “But you know what else? I think I’d rather be peeling it off you.”

His hands slid around your waist, tugging you closer as his lips grazed your neck in a mix of reverence and need. The weariness of his day forgotten, overcome by that fire that urged him to make sure you knew just how much you belonged to him.

"Don't move," he whispered, his voice raw as he pressed you against him. "I need this-

His fingers traced your waist, savouring the feel of soft fabric clinging to your form, but even more so, the sensation of you underneath. You could feel his heartbeat against you, the strong, steady rhythm betraying his calm exterior as his lips found a place on your shoulder- your neck, lingering as if to imprint this moment to memory.

Your hands lightly rested against his chest as he pressed closer, his eyes going dark, unguarded in the display of how far his longing had overcome him. "Every time I come home, I find myself hoping to see you like this," he murmured, voice low and husky. "So close… so undeniably mine.

His eyes, with fierce tenderness, burned as his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, angling your face up to meet his. For a moment longer, his eyes held yours before he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both possessive and fiercely tender.

Neuvillette's hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer, as his lips moved against yours with a fervour that bordered on desperation. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and when you granted him access, he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours.

"You taste like home," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "Like everything I've ever wanted."

His hands roamed over your body, caressing the curves he knew so well.

His hands slid up your sides, tracing the hem of the shirt as it brushed against your thighs. "You look so beautiful like this, so perfectly mine."

He leaned in, nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply. "I want to make love to you, right here, with you wearing nothing but my shirt."

His hands slipped under the fabric, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched.

Neuvillette's hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he claimed your mouth in another searing kiss. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss.

He carried you towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours, his hands gripping your thighs possessively. When he reached the bed, he laid you down gently, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

"You drive me wild," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "Seeing you in my shirt, wearing my scent... it's almost too much to bear."

His hands slid under the shirt, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched. He trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point, making you gasp.

"I need you," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I need to be inside you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible."

His hands slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your breasts. He dipped his head, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until it hardened under his touch. His other hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your folds, teasing you slowly.

Neuvillette's lips closed around your nipple, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive bud. His hand continued to stroke you, his fingers teasing your folds, dipping inside you slowly.

He could feel your breath hitching, your body arching into his touch. He released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the wet skin, making you shiver.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "So responsive, so beautiful."

His hand slid up your body, pushing the shirt higher, exposing more of your skin. He kissed a trail up your sternum, his lips brushing the underside of your chin before capturing your mouth in another deep, passionate kiss.

His fingers continued their teasing dance between your legs, stroking and circling, building the tension within you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body begging for more.

"Tell me how I can please you." he whispered against your lips.

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his hand still teasing your folds. "Anything, mon amour," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I would do anything to please you, to make you feel good."

His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He captured your earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. "I want to worship every inch of you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

His fingers continued their skilled ministrations, stroking and teasing, building the tension within you. He could feel your hips rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure.

"That's it, mon amour," he encouraged, his voice low and husky. "Let go, let yourself feel everything. I've got you.”

Neuvillette's fingers glided expertly through your slick folds, teasing and stroking, building the tension within you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild with desire.

His thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure. At the same time, two of his fingers pushed inside you, curling upwards to stroke that spot deep within that made your toes curl.

He set a steady rhythm, his fingers moving in and out, in and out, his thumb continuing its maddening circles. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body responding to his touch.

He angled his fingers slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. His thumb increased its pressure on your clit, rubbing in tight circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You're so beautiful when you're lost in pleasure," he growled, his own desire evident in his voice.

"Wanna make you feel good too-"

He rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so that your pussy was hovering right above his mouth and you were met with his crotch.

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed up at you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. "Then take what you need, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your core.

He pulled you down, his tongue delving between your folds, licking and sucking, tasting your essence. His hands gripped your ass, holding you in place.

You reached down, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers. His thick, hard cock sprang free, the tip already glistening with precum.

Neuvillette's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly. "Please-" he groaned, his hips bucking up into your touch.

You lowered your head, your tongue flicking out to lick the precum from the tip of his cock. Neuvillette groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you closer.

You wrapped your lips around his thick shaft, taking him deep into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, sucking and licking, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

Neuvillette's hips rocked up to meet your movements, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Yes, just like that," he groaned.

Neuvillette moaned into your folds as he lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him, his fingers digging into your flesh.

He could feel your juices coating his tongue, your scent filling his senses, driving him wild with desire. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep inside you.

His nose brushed against your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue curling to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. He could feel you trembling above him, your moans filling the room.

"Come for me, mon amour," he growled against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "Let go, let me feel you."

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers pumping in and out of you, faster and harder.

He could feel your thighs trembling against his face, your moans growing louder, more desperate. He knew you were close, could feel your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"That's it, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your folds.

Neuvillette felt your body tense above him, your walls clamping down around his fingers as your orgasm crashed over you. He lapped at your clit, prolonging your pleasure, his fingers gentling their movements as you rode out the waves of your climax.

He continued to lap at your folds, cleaning up your cum, his tongue swirling and flicking, bringing you down from your high.

But Neuvillette remained strong, not letting himself get close, wanting to finish inside you.

As you came down from your high, Neuvillette slowly released your thighs, his hands caressing your skin as he pulled back. His cock throbbed, aching for release, but he ignored it, his focus solely on your pleasure.

He sat up, turning you around and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the flavour mingling with his own unique taste.

"I need to be inside you," he growled against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel you, all of you."

He laid you back on the bed, his body covering yours, his cock nestling against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, seeking permission, seeking connection.

You nod.

With a slow, steady push, he sank into you, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length.

"Ah, sweetheart-" he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "You feel incredible, so tight, so perfect."

He began to move, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he thrust into you, deeper and harder with each movement.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I love you so so much-"

His pace increased, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he chased his release. His fingers dug into your hips, leaving marks of his passion, his possession.

Neuvillette's teeth sank into your shoulder, marking you as his, as he thrust into you with wild abandon. His hips slammed against yours, his cock driving deep inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

"Mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "All mine, now and forever."

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body responding to his every move.

He angled his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you scream his name. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Come with me, angel" he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you."

Neuvillette could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside you. He redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming against yours, his fingers rubbing your clit harder, faster.

His teeth sank into your shoulder again, his mark claiming you, possessing you, as his thrusts became erratic, his movements losing their rhythm.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, ropes of cum flooding you, your name a prayer on his lips.

As Neuvillette's orgasm crashed over him, you could feel your own release building, your walls clamping down around his pulsing cock. Your body trembled beneath him, your moans filling the room as you rode out the waves of your climax.

Your back arched off the bed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding him close as you came undone. Your inner walls rippled around his length, milking him, drawing out every last drop of his seed.

"Neuvillette!" you cried out, your voice breaking as the pleasure consumed you.

Neuvillette held you close, his arms wrapping around you, his body shaking with the force of his own release. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name over and over again.

Neuvillette held you close as you both came down from your highs, your bodies entwined, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal. He pressed soft kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, his lips trailing over your skin like a whisper.

"I love you, angel," he murmured, his voice low and tender. "I love you more than anything in this world."

He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. His hand stroked your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp.

"You are my everything," he whispered, his arms tightening around you. "My heart, my soul, my reason for being."

He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he held you close, savouring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

"Rest now, mon amour," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

જ⁀ watching you fight - 2.6k

The air heavy with the scent of battle and the sharp crackle of elemental energy. Wanderer’s movements were graceful and precise as always, his slender figure darting between foes with deadly elegance. But his focus wasn’t entirely on the fight.

No, his attention was locked on you.

You fought with a raw intensity, every strike you made sharp and calculated, every movement full of purpose. The way you moved, the way you commanded the space around you, was captivating. With every swing of your weapon, you demonstrated your strength and your resilience, your utter refusal to back down. The fire in your eyes was irresistible, and Wanderer couldn’t tear his gaze away from you.

Each time you dodged an attack, countered an enemy, or dispatched another foe with ease, his chest tightened with something he wasn’t quite used to—something primal.

He had always admired your strength, but this—this—was something different. The sight of your passion, your raw determination, made him ache with desire.

You caught his eye in the midst of a battle, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. He saw the way your lips curled in a confident, almost defiant smile as you took down an enemy, and it hit him like a jolt of electricity. His body tensed, a heat flooding his chest as he watched you finish the last enemy off with a powerful blow.

The battle ended in a flash of elemental power, and then there was silence. The only sound was your heavy breathing, while the air still hung heavy with the remnants of a fight. Wanderer didn't tear his eyes from you as he stared at the mess your hair was in, at the droplets of sweat glinting upon your skin. You were standing tall, victorious, and you radiated an undeniable strength that stirred something in him—a hunger he couldn’t push away.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, turning to face him with a breathless smile. “Not bad, huh?” you said, your voice teasing, but there was an edge of satisfaction in it.

Wanderer didn’t answer immediately. His eyes raked over you with an intensity that was impossible to miss. There was something about the way you fought, the way you carried yourself that made it impossible for him to ignore how turned on he was. He couldn’t shake the image of you fighting by his side, every graceful movement making his pulse race.

His eyes gleamed with something darker now, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, low, like he was tasting the words before they left his mouth.

“You have no idea,” he said, his gaze moving over you slowly, like a predator studying its prey. He let the words hang between you, heavy with intent. “The way you fight... the way you move, like nothing else matters but the battle... it’s...” He let out a soft, almost dismissive laugh, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice. “It’s intoxicating.”

His gaze drifted to the blood on your clothes, the way your chest heaved with each breath, the way your muscles flexed beneath the sweat and the grime of the fight. The blood—yours or theirs, it didn’t matter—only seemed to fuel the fire in his chest, igniting something that had been simmering beneath the surface.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you with purpose. “You look... different,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, a low growl in the back of his throat. “Tired, yes. But also more... alive.” His eyes locked with yours, holding your gaze, the unspoken words between you as thick as the sweat on your skin. “I can see it in your eyes—the rush, the satisfaction from victory.”

You could feel his presence closing in, his body just a hair’s breadth away from yours, his every movement sharp and deliberate. There was no longer any space between you two, the battlefield forgotten, the dead enemies fading into the background as he loomed over you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

He was studying you now, watching the way your body reacted to his proximity, the slight catch in your breath as you stood tall, still proud in your exhaustion. Wanderer leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that what you wanted, doll?” His voice was a whisper, but it was filled with a hunger that made your heart race. “For me to look at you like this? Wanting you, seeing you in a way that’s... less respectful and more... desperate.”

A shudder ran through you at the sound of his voice, at the words that lingered in the air between you two. You wanted to push him away, but your body—your senses—were screaming for more. This was different. This was dangerous, thrilling, and you couldn’t deny the pull.

He reached out, his fingers grazing along your jawline, tracing the curve of your cheek. The touch was light, almost feather-soft, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

“But I think we both know that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” His voice was a purr, a low, seductive sound that made your heart race. “To be seen, to be desired, to be... wanted.”

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You could feel the heat of his breath, the weight of his gaze as it bore into you. “Well I want you-”

His hand slid down your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging gently. “So tell me, are you ready to give in? To let me have my way with you, right here, right now, where anyone could see?”

His other hand trailed down your side, his touch possessive, claiming. He was so close, his body pressed against yours, his desire palpable in the air between you.

You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the hardness of his muscles, the way he seemed to radiate power and hunger. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body responding to his touch even as your mind screamed at you to resist.

But you couldn’t. Not when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he wanted to devour you, to consume you, to make you his in every way possible.

So you surrendered, your lips parting in a silent invitation, your body arching into his touch. And as his lips crashed against yours, you knew that there was no going back and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, a sharp, sudden sting that made him gasp. His eyes widened in surprise, then darkened with desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Fuck," he breathed, the word muffled against your mouth. "So eager, aren't you?"

His hands tightened in your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.

"That how you wanna’ play it, huh?" he murmured, his voice husky, laced with promise. He nipped at your lip in retaliation, a quick, sharp bite that sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing down your spine.

His hands roamed your body, mapping out your curves. He cupped one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt, teasing, taunting.

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached for the waistband of your pants. His fingers hooked into the fabric, and with a swift, practised motion, he tugged them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

You stepped out of them, now clad in just your shirt and underwear. The cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Scaramouche's gaze as it raked over your body.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "I could just eat you up."

His hands slid up your legs, his touch searing even through the thin fabric of your panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, tugging them down slowly, teasingly.

As he revealed you to him, inch by tantalising inch, his breath hitched. "God, look at you," he murmured, his voice reverent, awed. "So fucking perfect."

His hands mapped out your thighs, your hips, your stomach, worshipping every curve, every dip. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your hipbone, then trailing his lips lower.

"Gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "Gonna make you forget everything but the feeling of my mouth on you."

And with that, he sealed his lips over your clit, and the world fell away, leaving only sensation, only pleasure, only him.

His tongue traced the seam of your folds, a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shivers racing up your spine. He savoured the taste of you, the musky sweetness that was uniquely yours. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he explored every inch of you.

He started with broad strokes, his tongue lapping at your folds, coating them with his saliva. Then, with agonising slowness, he zeroed in on your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, teasing, tormenting.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he purred, his voice muffled against your flesh. "I could spend hours just worshipping this pretty little pussy."

He punctuated his words with a long, slow lick, from your entrance to your clit, savoring every drop of your essence. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you gasp and arch your hips.

His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth. He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, hard, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Let me hear you. Let the whole world know how good I make you feel."

He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, driving you higher and higher, closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled, your abs clenched, and you could feel the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

"Come for me, doll" he purred.

And with a final, hard suck on your clit, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing, your juices flooding his mouth as he lapped them up greedily, prolonging your pleasure.

He didn't stop until he was sure you were spent, until the last aftershocks had faded away. Only then did he pull back, his chin glistening with your essence, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

He grabbed your hips, spinning you around with surprising strength. Before you could react, he had you pressed against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his body flush against your back.

His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to cup your breast, kneading it roughly. The other slid between your legs, fingers delving into your still-slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

He thrust two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly, torturously. His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around it, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. His teeth grazed your flesh, not quite breaking the skin, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain through you.

His free hand moved to his pants, undoing them with practised ease. The sound of a zipper being pulled down seemed impossibly loud in the quiet of the forest. Then, he was tugging his cock free, the hard length pressing against your ass.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, grinding against you. "So fucking perfect."

He lined himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick folds.

"Last chance to back out, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

He waited, his body tense, poised on the edge of control. He wanted you, needed you, but he would wait. He would give you one last chance to refuse him, to deny him what he craved most.

But deep down, he knew you wouldn't. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need, the hunger. You wanted this just as much as he did, and he could feel it in the way your body trembled against his, the way your hips canted back, silently begging for more.

"Please what, baby?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Please fuck you?"

He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin.

"Or please stop?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing taunt. "Please don't give you what you so desperately need?"

The tip slowly pushed through your folds, but no more. He was so big, so hard, you knew he'd completely stretch you open.

“Stop being an idiot and fuck me-” you muttered.

With a low chuckle, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "So fucking tight."

He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the forest, mingling with your mutual moans and gasps.

He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building higher and higher, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

"That's it, baby," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Let me hear you. Let the whole damn world know who’s fucking you-"

His thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic. The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter in his core, threatening to consume him entirely. He could feel you clenching around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing his cock.

"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up. Gonna make you mine."

His hand slid down, fingers finding your clit. He rubbed tight, firm circles around the sensitive nub, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come with me, baby," he demanded, his voice a dark, commanding growl.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing and twitching as he filled you with his cum, sending you over the edge with him.

You came with a scream, your body convulsing and shaking in his arms. He held you close, his hips still rocking, prolonging your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of ecstasy.

"Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice ragged and raw. "That's my good girl."

He peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth grazing your skin. "You did so well, baby.”

He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, savouring the feeling of your body wrapped around his. Finally, with a soft groan, he pulled out, his now softening cock slipping from your pussy.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "And then maybe round two when we're inside, hmm?"

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

11K notes · View notes

tonycries · 4 months ago

Text

Girl, I'm Into It!

Synopsis. Jus’ take it, girl, doesn’t matter if someone sees.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, EXHÍBITIONISM, cúmplay, the elders, Geto’s cúlt, creampíes, getting interrupted, cóckwarming, GOJO’S POWERS, face-sítting (fem), true form!Sukuna, dp, semi-public, spítting, VERY pússydrúnk Geto, overstím, spánking, bréeding (Gojo), marathons, showing off, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - A mouthful, woman!

“Mhm—” Toji’s babbling out a drawn-out groan, dragging the sharp bridge of his nose down your drooling slit. Veering slow and syrupy where your clit was just throbbing, “Yeah, that last job- actually. Gimme a sec, Shiu.”

And you can only gasp when he’s trapping that glaring phone screen between his ear and his shoulder, sliding the calloused expanse of his palm up, up, up your arched spine.

Curling gently around your throat, “Now, who said you can stop sittin’ on m’face, doll?”

It’s said low - dangerous - loud enough that it just reached your ears above those saturated squelches.

“B-but-” you shudder. “Shiu can-”

“B-b-but what?” He’s licking his slick-glossed lips, pooling your sweet sweet juices on his pinkish tongue. And oh just that one taste makes Toji moan, makes his eyes roll to the back of his head, thick fingers coming down in a swift smack! to hurry your honeyed answer. “S’not good to ah- leave someone hanging, y’know?”

His best friend on the other end of the line be damned, Toji was going to taste your pretty pussy one way or the other.

“Yo, Fushiguro- where the hell did ya go?”

That makes you just jump, earning a rough snicker from the man underneath you. Words puffing out against your hole in a feverish pant, “Relax, girl, m’muted already.”

And the rest of Shiu’s crackling voice can’t even register in his melty brain right now, can’t even be heard over that sudden gruff murmur ripping from his throat at the needy little drip! drip! drip! of your weepy cunt down his lolling tongue. Sliding all the way to the back of his throat. “For now.”

Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs ravenously, before he’s just dragging your pliant body with a harsh tug - until your entire body weight is seated on his slutty mouth.

Exactly how he liked- no, loved it.

“See?” Sharp canines nip gently at your puffed-up pussy lips, you could feel Toji’s leering smirk widen, only plunging his pretty face deeper and deeper where you needed him the most. “Was that so hard?”

“N-no–” you’re mewling out, the truth babbling out of you when he slips past your swollen folds easily. Drinking in languid, calculated strokes up and down up and down up and-

“Helloooo? Ya better not have fucked off again, Fushiguro.”

Ah, yes. Toji’s rolling his eyes, taking his frustration out by giving you another stinging swat along your ass.

And it’s so messy - you’re so sloppy on top of him that it takes a few glissading taps down his phone before Toji can finally unmute himself. Eyes bleary, ears thundering, mouth so drunken that he could barely speak - your pussy coating him in a sticky sheen of your slick with each ounce of pleasure.

“Whaddaya say again, Shiu?” he’s slurring out - hoarse, strangled. The solid curve of his thumb gliding in a sopping wet dance across your sensitive clit, “Sorry was- eating.”

Toji laughs - he laughs - muffling the deep sounds by suckling on your leaky clit. Lapping at each and every pearlescent bead of your juices, high cheekbones hollowing out to scratch his obscene little taste buds roughly against the very peaked tip.

“You’re really eating mid-call?”

Shit, Toji can already feel the way you grow even more drenched at that, gushing out in a silken wave that dribbles down his chin.

Smack!

It’s as if he was taunting you to break - to whine loud enough that Shiu would hear. Toji’s free hand is tightening around your neck, hauling you all over his face to meet in the messiest French kiss. “Oh you have no hah- idea.”

It’s just about the last thing said before Toji’s bullying his long tongue past that taut entrance to your sloppy hole, only needing one, two tiny grinds before your gummy walls are sucking him up deliciously. Molding around each one of his hazy drags, every saturated swirl around your cozy channel.

“Well can ya be so fuckin’ loud-” You’re biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood at Shiu’s little complaint. “Seriously- what are you even eating, you animal?”

“Jus’ a lil’ something sweet. The cutest of desserts.” Nosy prick, he’s musing half-deliriously. “Now are ya gonna t-talk business or do I needa hang up?”

But Toji knows he won’t be hanging up - not by the way every rattled-off detail about his next mission has you grinding your pussy down even more desperately onto his mouth. Snapping those delicate strings of spit and slick with each slobbering drag. Addicted. Hypnotic.

Enough so that he doesn’t even know the date of his next job - and right now, Toji didn’t care.

And you half-wonder how his tongue wasn’t cramping up right now, how his voice wasn’t just raw from those faint grunts of affirmation dragged out at Shiu’s conversation - non-stop, purposeful.

And so was he.

You didn’t know who wanted you to cum more - you, or him.

But when you do - you’re utterly sure that it’s your dear boyfriend.

“Sh-shit-” you whisper, breath hitching with each desperate moan threatening to break free. And your nails just claw down his sculpted abs, hips gyrating in drippingly wet swivels with his tongue. Sure Shiu could hear now- “M’gonna cum-” They grow longer - sloppier. “Toji, m’cumming m’cumming- f-fuck-”

All Toji can do is giggle, as if he was fucked-out already. Shakily dipping his head further to ride you through your high, his nose nudges past your spread folds, into the base of your pussy, pointed chin kissing up against your puffy clit. Placing wet thrust after thrust that have you convulsing on top of him, the tiniest ah! ah! ah! leaving your ragged mouth when you feel his big beefy biceps flexing in a vice-like grip around your neck to hold you still.

Addictive.

So much so that he’s barely even registering Shiu’s little, “You got all that?”

And you swear you hear Toji’s tough baritone crack at the very end, verging on a whine when he mumbles, “Y-yeah yeah- got all of it.”

“Alright, and- Fushiguro?”

“Mhm?”

“At least let a man join next time.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Over-overtime

“Ken-”

“Shh, my love.”

“But Ken!”

Immediately, you’re feeling the soft graze of all five of Nanami’s thick fingers curling over your jaw-dropped mouth. Your shared, golden wedding ring cool over your heated skin when he puffs out in a feverish heave, “Please ah- quieten down those pretty moans, unless you w-want to be caught, darling.”

Honestly, Nanami wouldn’t even mind right now - wouldn’t even care for anything other than swiveling his hips into yours in a slow, sultry cadence.

Angry, red tip pushing you further and further into those important documents he should really be working on right about now. Your tight silken skirt riding high, hands scrambling towards the ends of his cool office desk-

“B-but-” you’re whining, muffled through his digits. “-but it feels so hck! good-”

You little minx. Nanami can feel himself just gush out a trail of steamingly hot precum in response to your pretty moans, jaw clenching while he tries to hold back the deepest of guttural groans from breaking free.

It was the first time he’d ever ignored any form of overtime for something like this. But feeling the slight shiver in your thighs, the way your pretty tits heave with each gasping inhale - shiiit, did he wish he did this sooner.

Every night of overtime, every lunch break, every meeting.

“S-s’that so?” he’s rasping, and the desk rattles when he picks up the pace. Ricketing after every smack! of his thick, hefty balls against your ass, girthy cock stretching you out maddeningly. “My cute lil’ wife w-wants so badly to moan out? To scream my name?”

“Yes–” you sob, and your trembly fingers can do nothing but snatch the yellow velvet of his favorite tie. Hauling your husband even pressingly closer, “D-don’t care if they hah- hear, need you, Ken-”

Fuck, that’s enough to have him gasping, entire body wracking with an almost-violent shiver.

Moaning.

Frantically, his sweat-slicked head snaps towards the door - the shut door.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he nuzzles down the tender column of your neck. Nosing into your sweetened spots, “Hah- wouldn’t- wouldn’t even mind being fired for this heavenly pussy, my love-” he confesses. But for all how sweet his words were toned, Nanami only pounds you deeper against the desk. Now clattering against the wall with how roughly he was spearing into your melty depths. “But I don’t want them seeing my wife.”

The hand around your mouth was nothing more than a little formality at this point, and Nanami himself was getting so dangerously loud-

Each grunt is punctuated by a meaningful slam into your drippingly wet cunt. Slurring out a little with each one, loosely whispering saccharine praises in your ear.

“So pretty-” he kisses the corner of your lips, your chin. Ravenous thumb reaching down to pull at your neglected clit, “So fucking sexy- ah you feel s-so good.” Leering smile too unlike him, growing at every one of your plush squeezes. “So- so loud-”

And, truly, the stuffy corporate room was so heady with the hypnotic smell and sound of sex - the sound of you two.

But Nanami still wasn’t done.

“M-move your hand, darling.” he hiccups out, and you already know what he’s talking about. Scrambling to shift away the now-sopping wet hand you’d cushioned to deter the wet thwack of his cum-filled balls against your ass, his toned pelvis on your ass. They ring thunderously in your ears, “Yeah- yeahhh, fuck- jus’ like that.”

Without the barrier of your hand in the way, he’s hiking up one powerful thigh onto the smooth plane of the desk. The change in angle nudging his fattened tip against your bulging g-spot, drawing swift, sopping glides. He was so out of control now.

And whatever’s left of his rational self knows that maybe he should slow down - be more mindful of the resounding squelches that your slutty cunt was drumming up.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not when your slicked walls are clamping down around him so tight. Your eyes fluttering shut, spine arching definitively, mouth dropping open with the most honeyed call of his name when you cum.

The noise so addictive - his favorite song - that Nanami isn’t too far behind. Overfilling your poor cunt over and over with thick globs of his cum.

And god it was so much of it that Nanami doesn’t even realize when his arm falls down limply to cup your cheek, messily kissing your puckered-up lips. You whine into the heated kiss of teeth and lips when he gushes out in velvety ropes of potent seed.

So fucking much. Enough to paint a glossy ring around his thick base, soaking those tufts of blond, dribbling down in a creamy pool at his polished work shoes, slippery.

“O-oh fuck yeah-” he’s spitting profanity after profanity. Twitchy cock still fucking you through the peaks of your own high, “Shhh- sh- c’mon now, milk me- milk fuck, take it all f’me–”

So caught up in his own bliss that Nanami finds his head lolling to the side when he’s finally cracking his eyes open - more to take a look upon that gorgeously fucked-out expression on your face than anything. When his gaze catches on something else-

The door.

Open.

A stunned Higuruma standing right by it, one hand holding a pile of documents that were sure to be the work he was actually supposed to be doing, the other adjusting his too-tight pants.

Which, while Nanami understood - hell, he could feel his still-cumming dick spurt out another gripping load of wispy white - didn’t mean he was going to let it slide. Not even for his closest coworker.

“O-on the other hand…” he muses, throat shot. Looking right into greedy, alarmed eyes when he rubs a lazy gyration on your throbbing clit, bring the glossy, sheened digits up, up, up to his mouth. Tongue lingering on his glistening wedding ring, “Why dontcha be as loud as possible f’me, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - So? Let ‘em see.

“Fuck-” Geto’s panting out, dark brows knitting tighter together after each wrenched-out moan. “Fuck.”

God, it was just about the least he could word out right now - words a ragged pitch, head throwing backwards with each smooth squeeze of your sopping wet pussy around into his swollen cock. Slow, languid glides that only made him impossibly harder.

And part of him knows, he should keep up that cold, cult-leader facade in front of the group gathered around you two this very moment. To show off how calculating he really is when something is done wrong.

How no one’s safe - not even you, his sweet, special second-in-command.

But you’re looking over your shoulder at him with those glassy, tear-filled eyes and he’s already defeated. Nothing against you.

“S-Sugu–” you whimper, drool dripping down the side of your lips - which he cranes down to lick away with a lazy swipe. Pinning you down with the weight of his hulkingly sculpted body to prevent your mindless little gyrations.

But Geto already knows that won’t stop your trembly fingers from wrapping around the base of his pretty red cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Begging, “I need you to fuck me so bad- need you ngh-”

He was painfully rock-hard, cum-filled balls pulled so taut that he almost looked like he’d burst if he wasn’t pummeling inside your gummy walls this very second. And just squeeze of your soft palm has Geto’s thick, round tip coating down your wrist in a swelteringly hot coat of his precum. Glossy and translucent.

Needy.

“Heh, ya sick of cockwarming already, gorgeous?” he’s leering down at you with a sexily smug smirk, pearly white teeth biting his bottom lip raw to hold back his tiny grunts. “M’not sure you’ve m-made it up to us already-”

“Please!”

Smack!

His slender fingers soothe over the stinging imprint across your ass, Geto’s leaning back to take in that heavenly view with his half-lidded eyes. The way your greedy pussy drips! down onto the tatami mats, how you shiver so prettily on all fours for him.

Taking only a split-second to drench his slender digits on the mess you were trailing down his cock, bullying them unapologetically between your lips. Geto’s chest rumbles with the vibrations of his ragged whisper in your ear, “Watch it, pretty girl.”

You’re choking around his thick fingers - such a sweet, sweet sound that almost hurts Geto to talk over.

Turning to the rest of the eagerly-watching room- “So, d’you think my gorgeous girl deserves it? After she-” Swirling his digits around your tongue, pressing hard into the narrow back of your throat. “-failed our last mission?”

Your ears are ringing, eyes too bleary to look up at any of the expressions of your fellow members. “Sugu-”

“Shhh–” Geto’s deeply rich tone is soothing, though the way his leaky tip just twitches is anything but. “We’re holdin’ a vote- s’rude to interrupt a vote.”

And fuck, Geto didn’t care about a fucking vote, didn’t care what any one else has to say. Honestly, he doesn’t think he even got through counting half the hands raised - or what it was even for.

But you feel the way his achy cock swells up even thicker, expanding your clingy channel to your limits. His fat, bulbous tip only grows toastier inside of you, throbbing in a thrumming tempo. Faster. Desperate.

“Sh-shit- s-so deep-” you’re hiccuping, hands trembling with fatigue where you were holding yourself up. And had it not been for one of Geto’s big, strong arms circling firmly around your waist, it would’ve been absolutely impossible to stop yourself from collapsing into a needy mess right in front of him.

Ah, but right now Geto felt like a needy mess - having teased both of yourself to the ends of your insanity by now.

He has to blink back the overstimulated tears in his eyes, huff and puff that guttural whine in his voice, the sheer excitement in his eyes. “Well then…” Geto’s purring, planting a path of hot pecks down your neck. “Majority wins.”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart, like you’re being thrust all the way into the ends of your lungs with how hard Geto’s pounding into you. Not even giving you a split-second to accommodate before he rummages his heated cock around your tight pussy. The very outer rides of his prominent veins peeking into your sensitive spots.

You scramble to grab onto the carpet, the silken sheets, anything when his powerful hips reel back and forth back and forth back and-

“What?” he heaves out as a voice pipes up nearby. Taking a few sloppy seconds to actually register the words let alone the language, with how good you felt milking the fucking soul out of him. “Oh- you’re right-”

Suddenly, he’s sitting back on his knees, dragging you with him like some glorified ragdoll. Geto snickers into the tender crook of your neck, your body all limp and pliant on top of him, seated until you were spearheaded so thoroughly on his messy erection.

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, long strands of his inky hair sticking to his sweat-sheened forehead, picking up such a merciless cadence. Sharp hip bones dig into you, Geto’s hefty balls sure to leave a raised circular imprint on your thighs, his tip on your cervix - your lungs.

“Don’ be shy~ let ‘em see, they’re- they’re sayin’ you’re trying to ah- r-run away–” he’s whining in your ear, defined canines sinking down into your ear lobe. “Begged to be fucked n’ this is the th-thanks I get? M’heartbroken, gorgeous.”

But oh, he didn’t sound like it - not even close.

Dragging his wet, wet lips in a sodden kiss against your sagging mouth, Geto sounded like he was about to laugh. “Now- does everyone here think she deserves a lil’ punishment for that, too?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Sh-shh, baby…”

Choso can’t do anything right now, can’t even say anything other hushed, broken praises and urgent warnings in your ear to quiet down.

But oh he should’ve known that your teasing self wouldn’t listen. He should’ve known that you’d be toying with his sanity the second you slipped under those blankets with him for Itadori family movie night. That you’d run your greedy fingers across the sensitive curve of his dick - taunting. For just a second - before escaping towards the bathroom with a wink, taking his rationality right along with you-

“Spacing out, Cho?” you’re giggling from the smoothened marble counter, batting those sultry lashes up at him in a way that makes his overworked cock twitch. “Or are ya just thinking about me again?”

And, well, the movie probably ended hours ago.

The sound of your pretty voice is enough to make him whine, to have his thick fingers bunching up at the hem of your translucently drenched panties - still pulled just enough aside to have him grind up deeper into you.

“N-no-” His lower lip wobbles with that panted-out answer, burning cheeks hidden away when your sweet boyfriend swipes over the curve of his thumb to your leaky cunt. Smearing that glossy trail of cum from your sodden slit, “Jus’- hngh, don’ squeeze me like that, baby- jus’ thinking that maybe we should h-head back.”

He says this, but you feel the way Choso’s reddened cock just weeps out another sloshing gush of milky precum, stretching out your already-overfilled walls with another coat of his. Just once.

And then again. And again.

“Sh-shit-” He’s suddenly rutting his hips unsteadily, ferally, pulling out the most drippingly wet squelches when he bullies the very rotund tip of his fat head into your cervix. Sweat-sheened forehead drooping against yours, rosy red lips slacking open, “Shit shit shit shit- have to- have to go- but I’m so hngh! so addicted, ahh my pretty girl-”

Just one, powerful jackhammer was enough to get him pussydrunk all over again.

“Y-yeah?” you ask, struggling through fucked-out gasps. Your hands find their way around his broad shoulders now, tracing over those deep red nail marks clawed across his creamy skin. “What about the m-”

“Don’t you d-dare mention the movie-”

Choso finds it impossible to hide the broken sob in his words, to not let a big fat tear splatter onto your own lips when his furious cock massages your plush walls back and forth.

“S’probably o-over and-” And shit, he can’t hold back anymore, muffling those honeyed moans with pressurized peck after peck. Leaving your lips ragged and half-bruised. “And I ngh- d-didn’t even get to pay attention and-” Abruptly, Choso’s head is thrown back, brows scrunching, voice whimpering. “-fuck we’re gonna get- caught-”

It was so loud - those saturated slurps emanating out from your needy pussy every time you were milking him dry.

That sodden slap! of skin-on-skin echo across this snug, heady bathroom and making Choso’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. And he’s sure his family outside can hear it through the door. Fuck-

Yet, he’s pounding meanly into your gummy pussy, dewy eyes locked onto that heavenly view of his glistening cock disappearing with each one. Your swollen folds rubbed raw with every kiss against his thick base, bulging outwardly, snapping delicate strings of cum and you you you-

“Then- then why don’t we oh- stop, baby?” you’re purring, tugging on his damp strands of hair. “If you’re so scared of g-getting caught we can-”

“No!”

If it was any other moment, you’d have toyed with poor Choso just a bit more for interrupting you - and he’d apologize and apologize until you crack.

But right now, the only thing you could focus on was how he was fucking you into the counter even harder, to indent that cool surface onto your skin, to mark the round divot of his tip into your g-spot. Over and over.

“Then what do you w-want, sweetheart?” you gasp, feeling blood pump rapidly into every solid inch of him. Growing him even bigger, even girthier - stretching out your very insides until you could feel Choso brush over every single nook and cranny inside you.

“Want you-” he’s moaning. Voice lilting higher in pitch and volume with each wrenched-out word. “Want you want you want- want you ngh- d-don’t even care anymore.”

Drunk on your pussy, he barely even realizes it when he’s smearing his fingers across that sopping wet gloss of around your inner thighs. Pooling each thick dredge, before just plugging them back into your overstuffed pussy.

“Hngh!”

“Shhh sh-shh…” His mouth hovers agonizingly closer to yours, and for a second, you think that Choso is going to place a sweet kiss upon your lips. But, insead, he’s tilting his head ever-so-slightly to suck on your tongue.

“Gotta be q-quiet-” he’s keening like a mantra, riotous digits now swiveling around and around your clit. Tired, sloppy but still never-ending - swollen twitching wildly inside your dripping cunt. “Quiet- ah fuck gotta-” Mouth running a mile a minute, you were so soft inside every time he was mashing into your sweet spots. He was out of control now. “Can’t be- caught- ah- please-”

And maybe at this very moment, Jin is turning up the volume to the tv even past its maximum, grandpa Itadori takes off his hearing aid - Sukuna just cackles.

Because in a split-second, Choso’s slamming his hand down on the counter beside you, groaning huskily into your ear, spitting out curse after curse when he cums and cums against your snug walls until he couldn’t anymore.

You feel his spazzing wet shaft heaten up inside you, pumping out blanks now. Heavy balls squeezing like he’d run out of his voluminous, thick cum. “W-wait did you just hah!”

“M-maybe….fuck-” Choso drags his lips down your jaw, sharply nipping tiny bites for everyone to see. “Y’know, baby- I think I hear another movie playin’.”

Shit.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Queen of curses

Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it - would never even think to hint at it - but oh, how he loved having you like this.

With your bleary head lolling into his pecs, drool swiping a glossy glide across his smooth skin, hips squirming and just jittering atop where he had you sat all prettily on two matchingly aching cocks. Unmoving. Unrelenting.

All in front of them.

“Well- whaddaya think, brat?” Sukuna’s leering down into your dazed eyes with his devilish red ones. “You think they hah- deserve death?”

Everyone - everyone - in Sukuna’s decadent throne room flinches. All the way from the spattering of lower curses groveling at the much larger demon’s feet, to you. The staggering curvature of your spine bowing only deeper, batting your teary lashes up at him.

“I- I don’t-” Each gasped-out little answer catches in your chest at the rabid thump! thump! thumping of his furious heads against your gummy walls.

His true form was so incredibly massive. Pressing up thoroughly in an indenting little swivel - god, no matter how many times you took him, the intense stretch of his girthy shafts always left your clingy walls struggling to accommodate him, scrambling for your sanity.

“Don’t?”

And it comes out higher-pitched than Sukuna’s usual rumbling baritone. An almost-believable little look of shock splattered all across his handsome face as he tightens two beefy arms around your body.

“My queen is sayin’ she doesn’t know?” He’s bouncing his muscular knee in both annoyance, and to drag your slobbering pussy down each length. Tiny, punishing gyrations back and forth. “Can ya believe this?”

It takes you a few more sloppily spent seconds to realize with a jolt that he’s not addressing you in that last sentence - your glassy gaze fixated on how he tilts his head at the few curses behind you two. Snickering out a bout of dark laughter, “My lil’ human- the queen, s’too cockdrunk to even hand your sorry asses your fates.”

Huffing, you pound at his broad chest in a way that he thinks almost tickles. Mumbling with the sort of pout that makes him throb, “S’not m-my fault, Kuna!”

“Not your fault” is an understatement - because Sukuna’s hips were slowly but surely rocking upwards into your sopping cunt. Busying one of his hands with gripping your hips roughly, rummaging your insides with every thorough ram, one of his swollen cocks branding against your g-spot, the other making circular indents along your cervix.

“Awww, you’re absolutely right, woman.” he slurs out. “S’my fault you w-wan’ed to ride my cock while I hold court, hm?” Jostling you on top of him to manspread, holding on tight to the armrests of his throne to just fuck up into you. “My fault your p-pretty pussy’s too selfish?”

You can only keen when his hefty set of balls sting against your ass, and the tiniest of jolts to your body has Sukuna seizing the opportunity to dip his hand down to your throbbing clit.

Toying. Pulling. Rolling.

“P-please-” you’re whining out a syrupy string of profanities that make him titter, and the stupefied curses behind you gasp. Stupidly, “M’not selfish- hngh-”

Shit, your pretty moans were such music to his ears. And one glimpse at the scum behind you two revealed that they thought so too. Heh, which is probably what’s spurring him to slam into you even deeper, to thumb your pussy lips apart and show off how well you were milking inch after inch of him.

And those other curses could already spy the way Sukuna bulged even bigger inside of you, the way your dewy eyes rolled to the back of your head.

They almost had half the mind to be concerned if it wasn’t for that uncharacteristically sappy smile on their king’s face.

“Damn. Is that so?” his hips grind up into yours faster. Sloppier. The hard lines of his hip bones making themselves at home imprinting against yours. Sukuna cranes his head down to bite at your slack lips, dangerous. “Then why dontcha hah- give these little heathens their punishment for disrespecting your king?”

It’s just about all you can do to whirl your teary gaze backwards, meeting widened sets of cursed eyes. Watching. Waiting. Greedy gazes dipping down-

“J-jus’ finish them off-” you’re squealing, sputtering to get out your words in full when Sukuna’s thick fingers move inhumanly fast on your clit. Quick, taunting circles. “Jus- fuck-”

That earns you the tiniest of swats on your sensitive nub - and he was being nice. “Ah ah- what a naughty mouth. Honestly, m’thinkin’ you should be the one to be punished - wouldn’t you trash agree?”

You don’t get to hear their answer - but you don’t have to, either.

Because just then, two, thick fingers tap on the side of your cheek - and you already knew what that meant. You didn’t even have to think about it before letting your mouth fall open in haste, tongue lolling out perfectly.

His absolute favorite part when Sukuna spits - once. Twice. A thick wad of honeyed saliva right onto the middle of your taste-buds, splattering in a translucent puddle down the side of your mouth. All despite his famously perfect aim.

Sukuna grins, wiping another one of his thumb across your lower lip. On purpose, of course.

“There- one punishment down and…” In only a split-second, you feel yourself being flipped - easily, pliantly - to have your back pressed up against all the ridges and curves of Sukuna’s muscles. Two bulging cocks still spearheaded all the way into the very back of your poor pussy, rough palms weighted underneath your legs, spreading you open almost shamefully in front of your audience. “-one more to go.”

The audience that Sukuna was pussydrunken enough to half-forget by now.

“Ah, you pathetic scum are still here.” His chest vibrates with hissed-out words, breath hot against your ear. He’s whispering - to you, this time, “Whaddaya say- if ya squirt on m’cock I’ll finish ‘em off, my queen?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - POWA

Not one. Not two.

Not even the entire council of elders could stop Satoru Gojo from taking exactly what he wanted - you.

Not the way your joints were protesting at this rude mating press he had you folded into, how his poor, overworked cock was twitching a mile a minute trying to keep up with his vigorous cadence - not even the fact that the two of you were being heard.

“T-Toru–” you’re begging, but it comes out as more of a strangled little mess of moans than anything. Your nails claw rawly down his back - yards upon yards of red, red lines. “The elders are just- out- the- door-”

Oh, but it was so hard to spit out any coherent sentences with the way that your husband was ramming his swollen cock into your with reckless abandon. Each and every ragged thrust like his hips were moving before his very mind - like he was just chasing that toasty hug of your walls.

It takes a few more sloppy spearheads into the very back of your cunt before his pussydrunk brain can manage to find the words, “So what?”

You’re gasping when his palm comes down in a shuddering smack! right onto the smooth tatami of your living room floor. Too depraved. Too restless to have taken you anywhere else.

Those pressurized waves causing the tiniest of tremors in the ground underneath you - more to piss off the grumbling elders outside than anything, if those muffled whispers were anything to go by.

For them to hear, to imagine. But not to see - no, because Gojo Satoru was a possessive bastard over his dear wife.

“They sh-show up to my Estate-” he gasps out - voice dragged hoarse, each word spat with the utmost venom you haven’t heard Gojo talk with to even his deepest of enemies. “Interrupt my time with my wife to demand hah- shitty talks of clan politics and- heirs.” And you swear his cerulean eyes just glow in the dim lighting, biting down hard on your earlobe, “And expect not to get a firsthand experience on makin’ an heir, heh-”

You’re keening when it seems like he’s hitting all your sweetened spots at such an inhuman pace. Scrunched eyes tinging with slight blue lightning when he glides a splayed-out palm across your stomach-

“F-fuck, Toru-” your own greedy gaze widens when his long index draws an invisible line halfway across your stomach. Deftly feeling for that bulging nudge of his fattened tip denting into your g-spot, smirking at that feeble recoil. “Are- are you using six eyes?”

At this, Gojo’s babbling out a humorless bout of laughter - broken, higher-pitched, murmured into the corner of your mouth.

“And?” His aching cock was just sobbing swelteringly hot precum with every surging ram, and so was Gojo - the stimulation of your plushy walls and the use of his jujutsu too much that he can feel his eyes well up with big, bulbous tears. “Hafta- hngh! hafta give ‘em a lil’ lesson on how strong our heir’s gonna be, right, sweetheart?”

You finding yourself clinging desperately onto Gojo’s snowy locks, boring up into his half-lidded, red-rimmed eyes. “Y-yes- gonna hafta- hngh- just hafta have you fill me up, Toru–”

Clearly, that was not what he was expecting.

Because this little answer leaves the strongest heaving in deep inhales of air. Barely even realizing the slow, lazy nod he’s giving you - a fucked-out grin spreading across his pretty features when he tilts his head towards your firmly shut sliding door.

“Mhm- jus’- hngh-” he groans, head throwing back at the mess of gooey translucence that dribbles its way down from your snugly filled cunt. “Jus’ need ya to say it a ah- little louder f’me, my wife- p-please?”

“Wan’ you t-to give me an heir-”

“Louder, sweetheart.”

“Wan-”

“Louder-”

You scream - you moan. And you cum, crashing into your orgasm headfirst, faster than either of you expected-

“Fuck- fuck yeah, gonna fill ya up-” Gojo’s gaping in awe, unable to rip his eyes away from your beautiful face all twisted in ecstasy. Just the very furrow in your brows, the trickle of drool at the corner of your lips, the way your hot insides massage him so snug makes him fuck you into the tatami faster. “Gonna make ya a p-pretty momma- hngh- all round n’ glowing- Give you all my cum until all they can see is me- fuck- me me me.”

Forehead pressed up damply against yours, his abs burn at the fervent drive of his weeping dick. Sensitive shaft feeling his thick precum slosh around your insides with each aggressive grind.

And he’s fucking wondering already how you two haven’t broken bones yet.

Much, much later, he’ll figure out that it was his reverse cursed technique. That his cock runs red and raw after tonight, that the power bursts out in all prefectures in Tokyo when Gojo Satoru finally cums.

Halfway on purpose - letting loose of his jujutsu a bit more than necessary.

He snickers at the chorus of gasps from outside when shards of lightbulbs flow across the room, whimpers spilling from his ravaged mouth. “Heheh- serves ‘em right-” Drilling into you sloppily, so deep. “Gonna f-find out- gonna fuck a baby into ya- hngh- an heir- fuck serves ‘em right–”

Oh, he’s running his mouth a mile a minute with little nonsense - and you can’t speak at all. Feeling those darting spurts of his potent seed at your very lungs, the sheer volume knocking against your womb. Over and over in a silky white gloss. It drools out of your sopping wet slit, soiling a puddle underneath your sweat-slicked bodies.

“Oh, sweetheart-” Gojo simpers, and shit, you already knew his tone didn’t bode well for your poor, overspilling pussy. His eyes lock on the door, “I don’t think our guests have left yet-”

“Because you froze them with your jujutsu-”

“How about another round?”

A/N. These poor side characters do NOT get paid enough lemme tell ya that.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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bladecrowned · 9 months ago

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🔪 ˚ · . : ANSWERED .

@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins asked: "Have you ever stopped to think about who you're hurting?" ( Jacob oopsie )

armor piercing question starters — ACCEPTING

LILITH COULD ONLY GRIT HER TEETH, BLACK eyes glinting obsidian-sharp. She had to clench her jaw, the muscle jumping visibly as she fought the urge to open her mouth and respond much too quickly. She had to stop herself because if she did respond right now she would give herself away.

Both of us! she wanted to shout. And you’re making it worse!

But she couldn’t let herself speak those words because if she did she knew that Jacob would argue, and he would be able to convince her not to do this. And she needed to do this. She needed to sever her tie to him, cut their bond out of herself and figure out how to act like it had never existed. And the cut hurt more than she knew how to put into words—an aching in her chest that felt like her ribcage was collapsing, tightening hopelessly around every breath she tried to take—but it would protect both of them. And that mattered so much more than this pain that she knew, logically, would be temporary.

It didn’t feel like it would be temporary, though. It felt like it would crush her. It felt like no other kind of pain she had ever known and it was going to put her in the ground.

“I’m weighing hurt against life and death, Jacob, what part of that don’t you understand?” Lilith glared up at him, fists clenched tightly at her sides like that pressure, her fingernails biting into her palms, was the only thing holding her together. “This is important.”

She knew what that sounded like as she said it; like the love they had shared was less important than the revenge she needed now. And that wasn’t true—of course that could never be true—but if Lilith’s momentum faltered now she would never be able to follow through with this. And she was so convinced that this was necessary. If Arryn found out about Jacob, about how important he was to her, he would—

Lilith couldn’t think about the things she knew Arryn would do to him.

“You just—“ Her voice broke, despite her best efforts, and she had to look down. She had to tear her eyes away from Jacob’s to finish saying it. “You just have to trust me when I say that I’m protecting you by doing this.”

#oh you KNEW what you were doing when you sent this #this was a calculated act of violence (thank you)#♡ ･ﾟ: [ answered ]#sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins #🔪 ･ﾟthe assassin : [ replies. lilith ]#v ･ﾟnothing is true : [ assassins ]#v ･ﾟ: [ blackwood ]

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satoruxx · 9 months ago

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you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

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pinkthick · 2 months ago

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Humiliating, isn’t it?

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

A/N: This is probably wayyy out of his character, but I haven’t watched season 2 yet (I don’t have Netflix 😭) and just saw an edit with him on tiktok and suddenly my obsession with him came back from 2021. So there are no spoilers!!!

Warnings: blowjob (m receiving), cum swallowing

If you’re not 18 DNI BECAUSE I WILL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

The metro station was cold, the flickering overhead lights casting dim shadows on the walls. Your steps echoed faintly as you trudged forward, your head bowed to avoid the stares of passersby. You could feel their judgment, their pity, their disgust. You didn’t blame them—you looked like hell. Blood crusted your upper lip, the remnants of a nosebleed from earlier when some thug decided to teach you a lesson about unpaid debts. Your cheek stung, swelling just beginning to bloom.

You winced as you adjusted the strap of your worn-out bag. Your ribs ached, a dull, persistent throb that reminded you how low you’d sunk. Debt was a beast that refused to loosen its grip. It clung to you, suffocated you, and drove you into situations you’d never imagined.

As you shuffled down the platform, you barely registered the man who bumped into you until you staggered back, your body colliding with the wall. “Sorry—I didn’t watch where I was going,” he said, his tone oddly pleasant.

You blinked up at him, taking in his immaculate gray suit and perfectly combed hair. His smile was disarming, polite but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“It’s quite alright,” you muttered, instinctively brushing yourself off despite already looking like a wreck. The man didn’t move on, though. Instead, he studied you, his gaze lingering on the dried blood and the faint bruise forming beneath your eye.

“Rough day?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

You gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, offering it to you. You hesitated before taking it, dabbing at your nose. The fabric was smooth, expensive, and it felt wrong to smear your blood on something so pristine.

“I have a game,” the man said suddenly, his voice lowering as if he were sharing a secret. “Would you like to play?”

The fuck?

You frowned. “A game?”

He nodded, his smile widening. “It’s simple. You could win money—enough to change your life.”

Your skepticism must have been obvious because he chuckled, a soft, almost paternal sound. “It’s harmless, I assure you. You look like someone who could use a bit of good fortune.”

You thought of your debts, the people breathing down your neck, the empty fridge in your apartment. Against your better judgment, you found yourself asking, “What’s the game?”

He gestured to a nearby bench, and you followed him, still wary. From his briefcase, he pulled out a folded board and a stack of rectangular tiles, explaining the rules of ddakji. It sounded simple enough: flip the opponent’s tile using your own. He placed a stack of cash on the bench beside him, its presence tantalizing.

You played your first round and lost. The second and third rounds went the same way. You were terrible at this game.

When you finally admitted you had no money to bet, his expression didn’t change. “Usually, I slap people when they lose,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But…” He gestured to your bruised face. “It seems someone’s already beaten me to it.”

The absurdity of the statement caught you off guard, and you let out a startled laugh. “That’s generous of you.”

He smirked. “I do have a heart.”

With no stakes involved, you continued playing. You lost repeatedly, the man’s skill far outstripping your own. He never seemed frustrated, though. If anything, he looked amused by your determination. Eventually, your bruises began to throb, and exhaustion seeped into your bones. You tossed the tile onto the bench, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I give up,” you said, slumping back. “I’m not winning this.”

He tilted his head, considering you. “Pity. You were just starting to improve.”

“Sure,” you muttered, wiping your hands on your jeans. “So, what now?”

He placed the briefcase on the bench between you, opening it to reveal neat stacks of bills. Your breath caught in your throat. It was more money than you’d ever seen in your life, more than enough to pay off your debts and start over.

“You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

He closed the briefcase with a decisive snap, leaning in slightly. “I’ll give this to you if you… do something for me.”

Your stomach churned at the way his eyes lingered on you, his meaning crystal clear. Heat flooded your face, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “What kind of something?” you asked, though you already knew.

His smile didn’t waver. “Let’s not pretend we’re strangers to desperation. You’ve been beaten down by the world, haven’t you? Cast aside, forgotten. This,” he gestured to the briefcase, “could be your ticket out.”

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms. “You think I’m going to sell myself for money?”

He shrugged, unbothered by your indignation. “You’ve already sold your time, your dignity, your safety—haven’t you? What’s the difference?”

The words stung because they weren’t entirely untrue. Still, you shook your head, your pride warring with your desperation. “I’m not doing that.”

He leaned back, crossing his legs with an air of nonchalance. “Your choice, of course. But think about it. How long before your debtors come back? Before the beatings get worse? How long can you keep scraping by?”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at the briefcase, the money practically taunting you. Your mind raced, weighing the humiliation against the potential freedom.

“I… I can’t,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He studied you for a long moment, his smile fading slightly. Then, to your surprise, he stood, gathering the game pieces and tucking them back into his briefcase. “Well,” he said, straightening his tie, “it was worth a shot.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how easily he let it go. “That’s it?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost fond. “I’m not a monster. I made an offer; you declined. Simple as that.”

As he turned to leave, something in you stirred—a mix of relief and regret. “Wait,” you called out, your voice trembling.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes?”

You hesitated, the weight of your situation crushing down on you. “Why me?” you asked, desperate to understand why this stranger had singled you out.

His smile returned, enigmatic and unsettling. “Because you’re interesting. And because I see potential in you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and placing it on the bench. “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”

Before you could respond, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the card. You stared at it, the black lettering stark against the white background.

For a long time, you sat there, the sound of the metro fading into the background. The man’s words echoed in your mind, intertwining with your fear, your pride, and your unrelenting desperation.

And the card remained in your pocket.

—

You stared at the card for what felt like hours that night. The weight of its potential pressed heavily on your chest. In a world where every door seemed to slam in your face, this was the first one to open—albeit under circumstances you couldn’t fully comprehend.

The next day, after another call from a creditor threatening you with more violence, you finally gave in. Your pride was already battered, and your options had all but evaporated. With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the card.

A smooth, professional voice answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “I… I got this card from someone at the metro. I’d like to… take them up on their offer.”

There was a pause, then the faint sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting your call. An address will be sent to your phone shortly. Be there within the hour.”

The line went dead before you could say anything else. Moments later, a text arrived, and you stared at the address. It wasn’t anywhere familiar to you, but the name of the street was in one of the wealthiest areas of the city. Hesitation gripped you again, but the bruises on your face and the weight of your debts pushed you forward.

The cab dropped you off at the gates of a sprawling villa. The sheer size of it was intimidating—tall wrought iron gates, a long driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges, and a house that looked more like a palace than a home. You adjusted your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you looked.

Before you could press the buzzer, the gates swung open as if you were expected. You walked up the driveway, each step feeling heavier than the last. When you reached the front door, it opened before you could knock.

A tall man stood there, dressed in a sleek black suit. His expression was blank, professional but cold. “Welcome,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The foyer was just as luxurious as the exterior—marble floors, chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than your entire life’s earnings.

“Next time, a car will pick you up,” the man said, his tone brisk.

“Next time?” you echoed, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Before he could respond, the familiar voice of the salesman cut through the air. “Sorry, he’s—doesn’t matter. Just come on in.” He appeared at the top of a sweeping staircase, his ever-present smile intact. He looked even more polished than before, his posture relaxed.

You hesitated but eventually followed the man into what appeared to be a sitting room. The furniture was sleek and modern, the walls lined with bookshelves and abstract paintings. He gestured for you to sit, but you remained standing, your nerves making it impossible to relax.

“Drink?” he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid on a nearby table.

“No, thank you,” you said quickly, your voice tight.

He tilted his head, his smile softening. “Suit yourself. I see your bruise is healing nicely.”

You instinctively touched your cheek, still tender from the beating. “Can we just… get to the point? What do you want me to do?”

The salesman’s smile widened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Straight to business. I like that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze uncomfortably intense. “What I want is very simple. And, let me assure you, the reward will far outweigh the discomfort.”

You shifted uneasily, his words setting off alarm bells in your mind.

His smile took on a sharper edge. “I want you to use that mouth of yours for something other than talking.”

The room seemed to tilt, your stomach dropping like a stone. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend what he’d just said. “You’re kidding,” you said, your voice trembling.

“I never kid about business,” he replied smoothly. “You’ve seen the briefcase. You know what’s at stake.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. “You want me to—”

“To prove how much you want to change your life,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “To show me that you’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

You took a step back, your legs bumping into the edge of a chair. “This… this is humiliating.”

“Is it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve already been beaten and left with nothing. What’s one more compromise?”

His words were like needles, each one poking at the fragile walls of your pride. He stood, closing the distance between you. “I’m offering you freedom,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “All you have to do is take it.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as sandpaper. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to walk out of this villa and never look back. But the image of that briefcase, the promise of a life free from fear and debt, rooted you in place.

“I…” Your voice cracked, the weight of the moment crushing you.

The salesman tilted his head, his smile softening ever so slightly. “Think of it this way,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to beg, to endure, to scrape by. After this, the world opens up to you.”

He stepped back, giving you space but keeping his piercing gaze locked on you. “But it’s your choice,” he added. “It always has been.”

“I—okay,” you murmured, barely audible.

His smile widened, not in mockery but in something resembling satisfaction. “Atta girl.”

The words hung in the air, and you immediately dropped to your knees, ready to get this over with. But his hand shot out, stopping you mid-motion. His touch was firm but not forceful, his fingers curling gently around your forearm.

“Not so fast,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “Let’s get you a bit comfortable first.”

You looked up at him, confusion etched across your face. “Comfortable?” you echoed.

He patted his lap, a small gesture that carried so much weight. “Don’t you want to loosen up a bit?”

“I—” The protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze pinning you in place.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice soft but insistent.

After a long moment of hesitation, you stood and awkwardly settled onto his lap. The action felt unnatural, foreign. You perched on his thighs stiffly, your hands clenched in your lap, your body tense like a coiled spring.

He didn’t seem bothered by your discomfort. Instead, he rested his hands lightly on your waist, his touch careful and deliberate. His thumbs began to trace small, lazy patterns into the fabric of your shirt, the motion strangely soothing despite the situation.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. The words were meant to reassure, but they only made your pulse race faster.

You nodded, unable to bring yourself to speak. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. You tried to focus on the patterns he was drawing, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to distract yourself from the heat radiating off his body—or the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. He noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his hands stayed where they were, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. His breath ghosted over your temple, warm and inviting. “Just breathe.”

Easier said than done. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. He shifted slightly, and your hands instinctively reached out, grasping his shoulders for balance. The movement brought you closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

His eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away. When you didn’t, his lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were testing the waters. His hands stayed on your waist, their grip light, giving you space to move away if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you sat there, motionless, letting him lead. When he realized you weren’t responding, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Relax,” he murmured, his tone patient.

Tentatively, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. The kiss was awkward at first, your movements hesitant and unsure. But he didn’t rush you. He let you take the lead, his hands remaining steady on your waist.

As you grew more comfortable, the kiss deepened, your initial hesitation fading away. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket, grounding yourself as you tilted your head, pressing closer.

That’s when he took over.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. The shift was subtle but deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, a gentle request rather than a demand, and you parted your lips without thinking.

The kiss turned hungry, his movements more assertive but never forceful. His hands roamed cautiously, never straying too far, their warmth seeping through your clothes. Your senses were overwhelmed—the taste of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady strength of his hands.

You didn’t know when it happened, but your tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of surrender. It wasn’t defeat—it was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers brushing against the collar of his shirt as you leaned into him.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still on your waist, anchoring you in place.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Not so bad.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded. The reality of what just happened began to sink in, but before panic could take hold, he shifted again, his hands steadying you as he leaned back slightly.

“Take your time,” he said, his tone soft. “We’re not in a rush.”

You weren’t sure if it was the weight of his gaze, the steady way he held you, or the way his fingers brushed against you as if he knew exactly where your boundaries were but was waiting for you to decide whether they mattered.

He reached up slowly, his movements deliberate, and his hand brushed against your face before moving to your hair. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he pulled the tie from your hair. Your hair tumbled loose over your shoulders, and he twirled the hair tie around his fingers, his smile never faltering.

“You’ve sucked dick before, right?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual.

Your heart stopped, then resumed at a faster pace. You blinked, your cheeks flushing hot. “I—of course I did!” you replied defensively, the words tumbling out before you could think them through.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Of course you did,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his gaze lingered on your face. “How could someone resist a pretty face like yours?”

The compliment sent an unexpected jolt through you, but you weren’t given time to process it. He gently took your hands in his, his touch light but firm, and began guiding them behind your back. You stiffened instinctively, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Relax,” he said, his tone calm and soothing, as though he were coaxing you out of a tense state. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You hesitated but allowed him to move your arms behind you, his grip steady and unthreatening. The hair tie you hadn’t noticed still in his hand came into view as he looped it around your wrists. The act was careful, the tie snug enough to hold your hands together but not tight enough to hurt.

“There,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the knot. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hair for you.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. He reached up, threading his fingers through your hair with the same slow, deliberate care he’d shown with your hands. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how your body seemed to respond to him against your will.

“See?” he said, his voice low and steady. “No reason to be nervous.”

Nervous was an understatement. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the situation. Everything about him was a contradiction—his words soft but commanding, his actions careful yet deliberate. It left you off balance, unsure of where you stood or what would happen next.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Down on your knees.”

You blinked, hesitating for a moment as the weight of his words sank in. Your body froze, torn between instinct and the promise of what you came here for. You must have looked as dumbfounded as you felt because his lips curved into that same infuriatingly knowing smile.

But then you remembered the briefcase—you couldn’t afford to hesitate, not now. Steeling yourself, you swallowed hard and did as he said, sinking onto the plush carpet beneath you.

He watched you with a calm, calculating expression, his fingers still lightly twirling the tie binding your wrists. When your knees touched the floor, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward slightly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips in a tone that felt both patronizing and oddly reassuring. His hand left you entirely, moving to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle snapping open echoed faintly in the room, and you bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain still.

He slid the belt free and dropped it to the side, his gaze never leaving yours. His movements were slow as he unbuttoned his pants and let them pool around his ankles. Then came the boxers, and as he stepped out of them, his confidence radiated like a tangible force.

He looked down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, his voice dripping with challenge.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve had bigger,” you shot back.

That earned a low chuckle from him, the sound rich and amused. He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to yours as his hand reached out, cupping your jaw firmly but gently. His thumb brushed along your chin as he tilted your face upward. “Open up,” he said, his tone soft but leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, your thoughts warring with one another. But then your resolve hardened.

You obeyed, parting your lips just enough to feel vulnerable.

The corners of his mouth quirked upward again, and his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair with practiced ease. “I’ll let you take the lead,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “at least for now.”

His other hand rested lightly on your shoulder as he guided you closer, his movements careful.

With a deep breath, you adjusted, leaning in more and licking the tip. He groaned softly, the sound low and guttural. His other hand trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent a shiver through you. His cock was heavy on your tongue, and your mind blurred as he thrust himself further and further into your mouth—and you appreciated the slowness with which he did it—until he was fully inside. The rhythm was slow at first. Small bobbing of your head that was just enough to pull soft groans of from his lips.

You pulled back slightly and swirled your tongue around the tip, pleasantly surprising him enough to earn yourself a sharp tug at your hair and a guttural moan that sent a shiver down your spine and a sudden awareness of the need between your legs.

“My… it’s like you were made for this…” he tugged gently on your hair again, signaling for you to pause, you pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch light but grounding.

“Good girl,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost approving. He leaned down slightly, his hand cupping your face as he tilted your chin upward. “Messy, though…” he muttered, wiping a bit of drool escaping your open mouth. His hand moved from your chin to your hair again, smoothing the strands back as he studied your face with that same intense gaze.

“Let’s see how far you can go,” he murmured, his tone calm but laced with challenge.

And he fucking shoved you down on his cock.

You froze for a second, overwhelmed by the situation, but his voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his tone still calm but laced with something sharper, something that made your heart race. “You want the money, don’t you?”

Your jaw tightened involuntarily, and he noticed. His smirk deepened as he adjusted his grip in your hair, guiding you with more force than before. It wasn’t painful, but it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission anymore. He was almost guiding your head at this point, fucking into your warm mouth with soft grunts as the hand with a grip on your hair directed you towards him in perfect timing. Your jaw was starting to ache and you could barely notice it with your thoughts suddenly one-track-minded. You were alternating torturously between sucking and lapping at his dick. He pulled out, and then fucked back in roughly, and oh, he knew this would be good—but not this good.

His hand in your hair tightened, and the calm, collected demeanor he had shown earlier began to crack ever so slightly. His breaths were heavier, his eyes darker, and the faint quirk of his lips had transformed into something far less controlled.

His need was pressing against the edges of his control. Your breath hitched as you tried to keep up, the pace leaving you off balance.

You pulled back instinctively, your body reacting to the overwhelming sensation, but his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. “No,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not yet. Breathe through your nose. Come on—work for it.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts thrilling and intimidating. You tried to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply through your nose as he’d instructed. Your jaw relaxed as best as it could, though every muscle in your body felt tense.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges, the first real crack in his composure. His free hand braced against the back of the couch he was sitting on, his knuckles whitening as he gripped it tightly.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, trying to focus despite your racing pulse. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the intensity in them made your breath catch. He was watching you so closely, as if every movement, every reaction, was feeding something deep within him.

“God,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, his head tilting back slightly as his grip in your hair eased momentarily. “You have no idea how good you look like this. Believe me—you could’ve gotten out of your debts a long time ago.” The sounds are indescribable, dirty and wet and so fucking hot as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

“Your throat,” he chokes out. He splays one hand over your throat and starts to fuck up into you at a different angle. “I can fucking see myself in you, fuck—“ There was a rawness to his movements now, a lack of the careful control that had defined him earlier. “Just a little more” he murmured, his voice roughened by something you couldn’t quite place. You could hear his breathing quicken, could feel the faint tremor in his grip as he pulled you closer still. His dominance over the situation was undeniable, but there was a vulnerability in the way his body reacted, a need that felt almost desperate.

When you hesitated again, instinctively pulling back just a fraction to catch your breath, his hand tightened slightly in your hair, holding you in place. “No,” he said sharply “stay fucking still.”

You wanted to punch his face. But you did your best to keep up—still thinking about the money—your breath hitching as he guided you, his need evident in the way he moved.

His groans grew louder, more frequent, and his grip in your hair tightened again as he edged closer to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and his movements became more erratic. He was losing control, and the realization sent a strange thrill through you.

His orgasm washed over him and his body went still for a moment, his grip in your hair almost bruising as he held you in place. The sound he made was low and guttural, a noise that seemed to reverberate through the room. You froze as he held you there, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your throat burned, your body tensing as you fought the instinct to pull away as his fucking cum filled your mouth. He didn’t let you, his hand in your hair keeping you firmly in place as he muttered something under his breath—words you couldn’t quite make out over the pounding in your ears.

When he finally released you, it was abrupt, his hand loosening in your hair as he leaned back, his chest heaving. You gasped for air, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself and then started to cough. Your body felt heavy, your limbs trembling as you sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he took in your disheveled appearance. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and rough. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. “Better than I expected.” And then he took the hair tie off your hands.

You didn’t respond, still trying to catch your breath as you processed what had just happened. The room felt stifling, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you as you struggled to compose yourself. You just managed to smear his cum on your face.

His smirk returned, though it was softer now. “I knew you had it in you,” he said, his hand trailing down to cup your chin again. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and his smile widened slightly. “But you’ve got to learn to pace yourself.”

You glared at him faintly, though the effect was ruined by the flush in your cheeks and the way your body still trembled. “Maybe you should pace yourself,” you shot back, your voice hoarse.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, his hand falling away from your face as he leaned back, his posture relaxing for the first time since you’d arrived. He looked down at you for a moment longer before reaching for his discarded boxers, slipping them back on with a casual grace.

“Go clean yourself up,” he said, gesturing toward a door off to the side. “The bathroom’s through there.”

You hesitated for a moment, your body still tense, before nodding and pushing yourself to your feet. Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, and you had to grip the edge of a nearby chair to keep your balance. He watched you with an amused expression, his smirk widening as you stumbled toward the bathroom.

When you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, and you winced at the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. You looked like a mess, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

As you splashed water on your face, trying to steady your nerves, you were almost on the verge of crying. It’s disgusting—it’s disgusting that you’re wiping his cum off your face and out of your mouth.

When you finally stepped back into the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable as he watched you. The briefcase was sitting on the nightstand beside him, and he gestured toward it with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Your reward,” he said simply, his smirk returning. “You’ve earned it.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between him and the briefcase. “That’s it?” you asked, your voice still hoarse.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Unless you’re looking for another round,” he said, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab the briefcase. The weight of it felt solid in your hands, a tangible reminder of why you’d agreed to this in the first place. “I’ll pass,” you muttered, turning toward the door.

As you reached for the handle, his voice stopped you. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

You glanced back at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. His smirk was still in place, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. You didn’t respond, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

The air outside felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room you’d just left. You took a deep breath, the weight of the briefcase grounding you as you made your way down the hall and out of the villa.

#the salesman x reader #gong yoo #squid game fanfiction #squid game #the salesman #the salesman smut

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