#so would Stain have a normal tongue?

[problemswithbooks]

It’s so obvious hori only has no problem with killing off non lov villains, if it’s hero or lov they all got ridiculous amounts of plot armor. stain getting killed off by afo is exactly what I expected, how else can hori show that afo is not just a punching bag for every damn hero of every level? look! afo can actually kill someone super easy!

sorry, just can’t find this exciting

Yeah, I totally agree.

As I said in my previous post I always expected Stain to die (or just be forgotten about/thrown back jail). I was never someone who thought my fav would have a happy ending. In most media I consume my favorite character is usually a low level villain that gets killed, so I'm more then used to it. Him dying isn't my issue--it's how lazy and little story impact it had.

Some of my other favorite characters that have died have been Greed, and Kimblee from FMA, Nnoitra and Tesla from Bleach and Han'nya from Rurouni Kenshin.

All of these had deaths that either matter plot wise or were given emotional impact. None of these characters are particularly big players when it comes to screen time, especially Han'nya and Tesla who were essentially side-kicks. Yet, their deaths are given a decent focus and/or effect the plot/themes of the work.

Hori did try--I will give him that. He did have Stain think something somewhat sentimental and sort of pray, but it's just not really enough. All might wanted to save him, sure, but after he gets killed, All Might is then the main focus and his death is pretty much dropped. It doesn't effect All Might and why should it when Stain wasn't really given much personality besides 'crazy guy' even right before he died.

And I saw that someone said in my last post, I was jumping the gun and Stain could be alive--which, yeah, I guess Hori could pull another Gran Torino and hand-wave him back from what clearly looked like his upper body being turned into mush, but why would he?

The reason I think Stain is super dead is because he's so unimportant. Hori has given him zero story value. Even him helping the Heroes with Info was rendered pointless because Star reset the clock for them. Nor has he done anything to expand his character past 'insane murder man'. Heck, I'd argue he actually had more nuance when he first showed up then he did in his last chapter, that continued to paint him as an All Might obsessed weirdo (which isn't me saying he shouldn't hold AM up as an ideal, but maybe not have him remember his scent and sniff rocks--he could have just watched and seen which blood was AfO's).

There's very little reason to bring him back in, especially since he has no Quirk and would be super injured. The only reason to have him pop back up alive is to save All Might again and get a slightly better death scene. But then the one we just watched is rendered even worse because it was a waste of time.

And I guess Hori could just say he survived at the very end, but again what would be the point? To go back to jail? I don't see anyone but the main LoV getting off scot-free, so this would only make the situation look worse, since Stain actually tried to the Heroes (twice) and gets prison time, meanwhile the LoV who were helping AfO up until the very last minute get nothing. It would be equally weird to have him just pop up at the end and get a panel saying he was also rehabilitated when Hori never painted him as anything but a crazy killer. Like it'd need a bit more of an explanation, then i think Hori wants to spend time on.

IDK, I just think he could have given Stain's death a bit more oomph--mainly by giving a little flashback to his childhood. It would have helped with the theme of villains having been kids once, while also showcasing how much AM mattered to him.

But I guess we'll see how things go. Maybe Hori will surprise us and have Stain do something in the vestige world because AfO stole his Quirk. I doubt it but who the hell knows, Hori is unpredictable.

[carebearbussy]

ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.

you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.

"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"

you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.

"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."

he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?

you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.

and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.

this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.

his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.

"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"

he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.

"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."

moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.

he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.

"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."

[etfrin]

— ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ᴅᴏᴘᴘᴇʟɢᴀɴɢᴇʀ! ꜰʀᴀɴᴄɪꜱ

✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | cunnilingus, mentions of blood, murder. tongue fucking, monster tongue. hints of overstimulation, art from Pinterest | lmk if I forgot anything

✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: doppelganger Francis makes you open the door...

✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k

✧— ᴀ/ɴ: please give feedback, it's been over a month since I wrote

「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」

The doppelganger should have known better than to show up with ‘scarlet milk’ all over his disguise. He had taken care of the D.D.D of this building already. He just needed to convince the pretty girl behind the screen to let him and cause havoc.

He leans in, his face dangerously close to the glass and he smirks. His eyes are dark and a smirk forms on his face. “Just let me in. Does the D.D.D even treat you well? You deserve to be worshiped and I am willing to be on my knees.”

You swallow as you look at him, only a layer of glass separating you and him. There was a familiar ache between your legs from his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had time for yourself, this simple desk job consuming all your time. You tried to remind yourself that this man is a monster.

But if the monster is ready to be a slut… who are you to refuse?

You press the button that gives him access to your office. You glance at the red button, knowing that the moment you're done having fun with him. You'll have to press it.

The milkman, you know his name is Francis, walks in. He doesn't take any time to press you against the desk. The wood digging into your back.

“Pretty human,” he murmurs, his head dipping in between the space of your shoulder. His lips press a soft kiss. You gasp when you feel his sharp teeth on your skin. If he wanted to, he could tear your flesh.

You let out a breath, your heart beating against your chest. You tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. He takes advantage to lick at your salty skin with his long tongue. “Tasty,” he whispered against your ear. For a moment fear freezes you, thinking that he would eat you alive.

Instead, he gets on his knees. The loud thud makes you wince. “I'll treat you better,” he said, “Be a good girl for me.”

You nod before you can even think.

He gets under your skirt, his breath fanning your wet panties. He pressed his lips to the stain of your arousal. His tongue begins to lick you all over your clothed pussy. You put your hands on the desk, your head thrown back as you moan without shame. You feel weak on the knees. The monster has you caged even though it is your thighs around his head.

He continues to press small kisses all over, and the tip of his tongue puts pressure on your sensitive clit, making you cry out. The wet, rough texture of your panties felt so good against your bud. Then he finally decides that it's enough teasing.

He uses his fingers to pull your underwear out of the way. He chuckled when he saw your wet pussy clenching around nothing. You feel yourself getting hotter.

He eats you out without a care. His strokes are short and impatient. You begin to move your hips, grinding your cunt on his tongue. He groans. His hands are on your thighs and his grip on your flesh tightens. He raises his hands until he's cupping the cheeks of your ass. He kneads the soft flesh as he begins to use his tongue to flick at your clit until it's swollen.

Only when he's satisfied, he kisses the bud and begins to fuck his tongue into your walls. It was no easy feat, but you were so wet and it felt like his tongue was longer than normal humans. He chokes on you, his tongue making out with your tight walls. You cry out from the pleasure, knowing that you'll never feel something like this ever again.

Your eyes roll back, your pussy walls flexing on his tongue. You were so close and you knew you surely were suffocating him with the way you pressed your thighs against his head.

“Please- please-” you begin to plead, your body begging to be released. You would begin to cry if the monster denied you this. His tongue reached deeper inside of your walls than any cock did. He pressed his tongue to a soft, sensitive spot and you got dizzy from the jolts of pleasure. You see white in your vision as you begin to cum. You would have lost your balance if it weren't for him.

He milks your essence on his tongue. He makes sure there's not a single drop left when he stops. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at him. His lips glisten with your juices. He smirked.

“Let me kill those worthless humans. There's more to that where it came from.”

[hurlingdown]

thinkin’ about . . . gunplay with fushiguro toji. you’re a notorious mafia boss, and he’s a sharp-witted spy sent out to honey trap you. what comes next?

tags. sub! toji, dom! reader. gunplay, oral, cock-stepping, dirty talk, degradation, slight feminization, sir kink, toji being a (cock)slut.

fushiguro toji would have never thought his honey trap mission would end up with him being on his knees for you and a gun to his throat.

“don’t tell me,” you muttered, patting the barrel of the gun against his cheek, “you actually thought you would be able to pull this off without getting caught?” 

toji was staring up at you with such composure that normally would have pissed you off, but you didn’t miss the way he visibly swallowed when you traced his jawline with the muzzle, betraying how affected he really was. he couldn't help it. the way you were treating him was exciting, and he had to remind himself that you were holding a weapon that could end his life. 

at his silence, you slowly trailed the mouth of the gun down the vein of his neck, cold metal scraping against hot skin, making him shiver. 

“so quiet,” you sighed, angling the gun in a way that circled his adam’s apple, his breath hitching at the slight pressure on his windpipe. “and to think you were talking so much earlier, when you attempted to seduce me in that bar.” 

toji smirked. “n’ i damn near succeeded.” 

“if you did, you’d be in a far better place than here, kneeling at my mercy. don’t you think?” 

“y’were ready to bend me over the table,” he drawled, lazily meeting your eyes. “if you didn’t see the gun—you would’ve fucked me in fronta everyone.” 

eyebrows furrowing, you gripped his hair forcefully, lifting him to meet you face-to-face as he grunted in pain, struggling to stay on his knees with his hands bound behind him. “—fucker. give a warning.” 

you clenched your jaw.

“i can see why they sent you,” you said nonchalantly, a carefully constructed facade for your anger—hot gaze trailing down the tempting crevice of his chest, down to the erection that practically bulged obscenely against the front of his trousers. “with this slutty body of yours. could make you half a woman with the size of those.” 

“could it,” toji wheezed. it didn’t come out like a question. “got a thing for whores with big tits? or ‘s just me, sire?” 

what was he playing at? you jerked his head back roughly, lining the gun up at the base of his throat. 

“open your mouth again, and i’ll put a bullet through your pretty face.” 

toji stared the gun down as though being held at gunpoint was a routine for him at this point, completely unfazed. his gaze darted towards you right after, face contorted into a strangely smug expression, like he knew you weren’t going to shoot him. you watched as he carefully parted his lips, taking his tongue out and shooting you a naughty gaze through his lashes. 

it took you a moment to gather your bearings before you snarled, half in anger and half in awe. “you fucking slut.”

if he wanted something in his mouth, well, you were going to give him something.

ignoring the glint of wariness in his eyes as you raised the gun from his throat, you pressed the tip of it against his lips before slowly pushing it past the rim. it had to taste bitter, with residual gunpowder staining the edges, but toji didn’t show it. if anything, it looked like he was enjoying it, jaw slackening as he allowed you to push in further. 

toji’s eyes fluttered shut as you finally bottomed out, trying not to gag as the muzzle hit the back of his throat. there was a small frown fixed on his face in concentration, and he tilted his head expertly to allow it to slide in deeper. 

his lips were wrapped taut around the thick barrel up to the trigger where your finger laid, lewd gurgles now sounding as saliva rapidly gathered in his mouth at the overstretch. a line of drool tantalisingly dripped down the side of his chin, dribbling down the exposed column of his throat. 

the loud click of you cocking the gun had him letting out a pathetic whimper, swallowing hard as he tried his hardest to take it in deeper. he glanced up at you through smouldering, watery eyes, looking for something akin to… approval. 

“think i underestimated how much of a whore you are,” you muttered, yanking his head to the side, to which he whined lowly at. “got a thing for sticking dangerous objects down your throat, toji, or is it just my gun?”  

toji let out a muffled response, or tried to, as you took the opportunity to flatten the side of the barrel against his tongue, the heel of your foot simultaneously digging down hard onto his clothed erection. he groaned, hips bucking up as he tried to chase the sudden stimulation, the overwhelming pleasure making his eyes roll back in an erotic display.

“that’s enough,” you rasped, pulling the barrel out. it was now thoroughly drenched in his spit, and a lewd string of saliva connected the muzzle and his lips. he looked up at you with dazed bedroom eyes.

“i want the real thing now,” toji purred. “sire.” 

kinktober masterlist! main masterlist!

[derpy-dogs-n-cats]

Dealing With A Marechi S/O On Her Period.

Main Masterlist

KNY Masterlist

Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Blood, smut, sexual themes, oral sex; female receiving, oral sex during period, face sitting, mentions about fingering, drinking blood, eating human flesh.

Summary: Headcanons on the upper three and Muzan helping a marechi s/o through her period while keeping their stomachs full.

W/C: 2.5k+

In the time you’d been together, he had yet to smell your blood, it was hard enough to be placed in the situation when he always made sure you weren’t injured whenever he was around, and as such a high-ranking demon, he lacked the privilege to spend as much time with you as wanted, so the timings hadn’t lined properly for him to be present during your period either, but when they finally did without you being aware of your unique type of blood, to say the least, neither of you were ready.

Muzan Kibutsuji

Takes full advantage of the situation.

Has to take a step back to steady himself the first time he smells you.

Is initially worried you’re injured at first.

Plays his cards right and shows initial concern despite your body doing a normal biological function.

Is more physically affectionate to get you to lower your guard even more.

Gets you to admit out loud that you’re in physical pain.

Suggests helping you ease the pain.

Had never buried his face between your legs before.

Was actually kind of sexist about it and would’ve felt inferior if he placed your legs on either side of his head, because why would the demon king do that?

Still tried to refuse but smelling your marechi blood didn’t help.

Having a monthly supply of marechi blood sounded tempting enough.

So he suggests easing your pain.

Surprises you by finally spreading your legs after laying between them.

Keeps you around him for the entirety of the week.

Takes you wherever he needs to go to keep you close.

But never near any demons.

If necessary, he has Kokushibo watch over you.

Doesn’t necessarily refuse to not have you in his presence.

But refuses to leave you alone and unguarded for other demons to try and eat you.

Knows that Kokushibo won’t even consider so much as laying a finger at you.

Still refuses to get on his knees for you.

You always have to lay down for him.

Forbids you from wearing anything under your kimono to have easier access.

Instantly smells whenever your blood’s about to stain the expensive fabric of your kimono.

Licks you clean every time he smells you starting to bleed.

Which is multiple times throughout the day.

As soon as you express being relieved from the pain, he uses it as an excuse.

Prefers you thinking he genuinely and solely wants to care for his favorite human rather than admitting that he needs to feed like any living creature.

Because he refuses to so much as get on his knees for you, he obviously even more so refuses to have you sit on his face.

Not even hover.

If you ever suggest it, he’ll give you the meanest side eye and refuse to speak to you for days.

Still will not eat you out outside of your period.

The moans entering Muzan’s ears easily sounded different than usual, similar to the first time he had you take his heavy cock in your lower area, where he was currently lapping at you for the first time with half lidded eyes in a relaxed expression while laying on his stomach for you, hands on either of your thighs which obediently remained spread open for him with ease due to how the rest of your body had fallen limp upon the first lick.

He had his doubts at first, but he had to admit, it’s awfully convenient to have a marechi lover who was so willing to hike up the expensive kimono and spread open the legs beneath it to allow him to feed rather than having to go through the trouble of going out of his way for people to eat. A louder moan fills the room as he dips his tongue inside your sensitive opening after having licked clean your labia.

A shaky hand reaches for his hair in attempt to pull him closer only to be pushed away rather gently by the man at your thighs. Normally, he would’ve slapped away the hand because despite actually bearing affection for you, how dare you try to command him in any way, however, he supposes the meal you’re offering him is enough for him to turn a blind eye to your insolence… once.

Kokushibo

Very concerned for your health when he finds out.

Initially thinks you’re injured upon smelling your blood for the first time.

Takes a second (one too long in his opinion) to regain his composure after the scent of your blood makes him feel dizzy.

The opposite of Muzan.

Has eaten you out before.

And doesn’t mind doing it.

Genuinely suggests relieving your pain for your benefit.

Takes great pride in taking care of you.

Hardly even thinks of you as a source of food with how much he prioritizes easing your pain.

But does acknowledge that you’re keeping him well fed.

Another one that keeps you with him every time you’re on your period (they all do).

Doesn’t think much about if he likes or not getting on his knees for you.

But knows your height differences would make it a bit uncomfortable.

And prefers you lay down for your own comfort.

Will also eat you out whenever he smells blood on the way.

Enjoys doing so but does it mainly for your safety as to not attract any demons.

Doesn’t just drink your blood but also plays with your clit to actively give you orgasms to counter your cramps.

Gently rubs your lower stomach to further help with your cramps.

Or grazes it very lightly with his fingertips to give you goosebumps if he’s in a teasing mood.

Slows the pace after each orgasm as to not overstimulate you before picking it up again.

Overall treats you like a porcelain doll.

Would give you a break if you asked.

Even if you’re still bleeding

So long as you’re always close to him so he can keep you safe.

Soft gentle tugs to your clit force heavy breaths out through your nose, the occasional pinch making you clench around the soft pink tongue moving along your insides with your back tensing and arching off the futon briefly before a hand gently pushes down your stomach to press you back against the fabric beneath you in attempt to get you to relax, the tongue carefully moving back and forth as to not overwhelm your sensitive insides.

His eyes peek open when he feels your legs starting to tremble on either side of his face, the hand over your lower stomach carefully rubbing over the skin doing little to soothe you, his first pair of eyes looking at you due to your different than usual movements, unable to read any expression from your head being thrown back. “Are you alri-” He’s interrupted by your body falling limp against him and the unmistakable noise of you hitting your orgasm.

He’s quick to react and have his fingers gently rub at your clit, slowly licking over your leaking opening, his reasoning settling on your different reactions being from your current sensitive state. His eyes fall back shut again without his own hands failing to continue their ministrations, set on taking care of you and making sure you’re carefully brought back down from your own high as to not overstimulate you while you let him eat his fill.

Douma

Doesn’t even occur to him that you might be injured.

Knows that he would’ve been notified if you’d been injured.

Also takes full advantage of the situation.

Absolutely delighted to find out you’re a marechi.

He’s been surrounded by plenty women before and has eaten enough to know what a period is obviously.

As well as eaten marechi women before.

But has never stumbled upon a marechi woman on her period.

Is baffled that it never occurred to him to keep a marechi woman by his side for a monthly supply.

Immediately asks to feed off of you rather than asking to help with your cramps.

Used to have you on him 97% of times, now it’s 100%.

Eats you out wherever, whenever and however.

Very vocal about it.

Constant praises on your taste.

Gets actually hungry while tasting you.

But remembers that you’re a fragile human who he genuinely enjoys having around and therefore would rather not hurt you.

So he treats you as an appetizer instead.

And proceeds to eat one of the other women around after you’ve stopped bleeding.

Keeps you on him under every circumstance.

Even if Muzan calls him over.

Promises to do as Muzan says and be on his best behavior which he actually fulfills much to Muzan’s surprise.

If you were to actually be apart from him, he would ask in all seriousness for you to save your blood for him for later in a jar.

Another one who would forbid you from wearing anything under your kimono.

Probably forbids you from doing so even when you aren’t on your period.

Doesn’t even warn you when he smells you starting to bleed and immediately goes under your kimono.

If there’s anyone nearby when you start bleeding, immediately orders them to leave.

For your sake.

If it were up to him, he’d bury his face between your legs right then and there.

Messy eater.

Will definitely take you on his beanbag.

Will treat your period (as well as your fucking sessions) like some type of bingo or a list that needs to have locations where he’s taken you crossed off.

You feel yourself sink further into the large pillow beneath you with your legs kept hiked to your chest, loud continuous moans coming from the blonde between said legs, the incessant noises coming from him having won long ago against your own. A slight shift of your body moves your untied kimono further open with it finally slipping off your breasts and exposing your nipples to the cold air, the elegant fabric bunching around your torso between the folds of the pillow.

“Ohh, you taste just heavenly my darling.” Douma smiles after lifting his head from your bloodied messy folds, letting you take in the sight of his chin drenched in your blood, fluids starting to trickle down to his neck followed by his tongue swiping across it. “Now sit pretty for me and let me eat…” He coaxes in a low tone while slowly lowering himself, continuing to delve his tongue into your opening.

While a knot started to form in the pit of your stomach, the hollow filling in the pit of Douma’s own stomach started to grow, tempting him with having more than just a taste of your blood, but he couldn’t, he’d never forgive himself. He shuts down his thoughts and instead licks you with more vigor, his mind wandering to other women who he’d much rather eat before you, maybe the one who’d been just slightly less polite than usual when attending you, maybe she’d be able to satiate his hunger for a while.

Akaza

Is terrified when he smells your blood for the first time.

Especially when he notices what type of blood it is.

Immediately assumes the worst.

Thanks whatever higher power there is when he sees you’re fine.

Gets headaches from trying to keep himself in control.

And still refuses to leave you alone.

Absolutely would never under any circumstances let Douma get remotely near you regardless of whatever situation you’re in.

Would never suggest eating you out to relieve the pain because he doesn’t want you to think he’s using you for food

But wouldn’t blatantly tell you no if you asked.

Would need a lot of convincing to say yes.

Would be really worried because what if he accidentally hurts you.

Is also worried that what if he genuinely gets hungry while trying to make you feel better.

Would be very hesitant due to his rule against eating women.

But tries to convince himself it’s alright because he’s not actually eating you.

Because he secretly is very curious and tempted to try it out.

Finally says yes when your cramps get unbearable.

Absolutely loses it upon his first taste.

Would already eat you out regularly for his own pleasure.

But would do it with dignity composure.

Now gets overly pussy drunk.

Doesn’t stop even after you’re clean.

Just continues while waiting for the next wave of blood.

Eats you out like a starved animal when you’re on your period.

Another messy eater.

Doesn’t leave your side for your safety.

And your mutual pleasure.

Would enjoy you sitting on his face.

But fails to notice how he refuses to let you leave your seat once you’ve sat.

Despite eating you out mostly for his own pleasure, doesn’t forget yours and uses his fingers to give you as many orgasms as he can as a thanks for keeping him fed.

Has no shame in licking his fingers clean in front of you.

Makes sure to still give you plenty of head regularly after your period so you don’t feel like he just sees you as food.

Would wonder in the back of his head if your blood alone can make him strong enough to surpass the other upper ranks.

Would be damned if Douma found out what he’s doing.

“Are you su-” “Yes.” Akaza’s quick to respond, trying to hold himself back from yanking you down, instead, gently guiding you lower to take a seat on his face. It’d been a few cycles since he finally started eating you out during your period and in that time, he’d grown addicted, though that would be an understatement. And though he still much enjoyed spending his days face buried between your legs even outside your cycle, during was something far preferable.

In the last few times he’d helped you through your difficult time of the month, he started feeling as though it wasn’t enough, no, rather he wanted more, and so he suggested something new, something you’d never know if he’d thought about himself, seen somewhere or heard of. Once you feel your lower area come into contact with him a sigh escapes you with his tongue starting to move along you, pressing over your clit, licking between your folds, circling your opening and licking clean every crevice.

He continues to suffocate himself in the intoxicating smell of your blood and decides it still isn’t enough, not with you hovering. A yelp leaves your mouth at the sudden yank of your legs being pulled upward folded against each other by a pair of strong hands with you falling completely sat on Akaza’s face, a muffled moan heard from under you pulling your gaze toward him, taking in the expression of his eyes rolled to the back of his head while his tongue invaded your insides, refusing to stop tasting you.

[coryosbaby]

ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ !

♡ content warning . dubious consent, mentions of drugging, sex work, breeding kink, cum play, weird usage of condoms, dom! Coryo

You didn’t know how you ended up like this.

Being an escort wasn’t an easy job. There were times when you were completely disgusted at the men who approached you (if not all of them). Coriolanus was supposed to be a normal client— someone that would fuck and go. Even with his ranking, you never suspected that he would… keep you.

You had had a few weird clients— some asked for the most vulgar, filthy things. Some of them followed you around before your boss had told them off.

But none of them have ever took you home.

You usually weren’t this stupid, this hazy minded, but Coriolanus had scooped you up with his wit and his charm and a bottle of something you hadn’t had before the economy went downhill. You had heard of him— of course you had—- the powerful, handsome, and extremely intelligent, Coriolanus Snow. And before you knew it you were being tossed onto his king sized bed and his tongue was scraping against the roof of your open mouth. You didn’t even have time to gape in drunken wonder at his enormous bedroom— all you could think about was the cock gliding in between your legs, meaty and thick and wet. He had become completely bare to you, regardless of your opposing position. You were still clothed in your pink floral dress and your basic cotton panties.

Coriolanus’ lips grazed over your jugular, his tongue nipping at your skin. You had never been this hot for anyone, especially not a client. Your panties were soaking, your clit was throbbing and you needed to cum. What was happening to you?

“Cor…” you tried to slur out, as your eyelashes fluttered.

“I know.”

His voice was incredibly gentle, and his big hands groped your tits through your dress. He lifted up the hem, made sure to expose your panties to him, and groaned. You could feel his precum smear against your thigh as he ground his aching member against you.

“Can’t even say my name, can you?” Coriolanus continues. “I have an idea. You can just call me Coryo. Short enough for your little brain to remember, yeah?”

Coryo. It was a nice name. A perfect name.

You moaned out when you felt the cool air hit the peaks of your puffy and swollen nipples. Coriolanus—Coryo— was peeling your dress off of your body. When the fabric was thrown across the room his mouth latched to one of your nipples. You mewled, hands going up to grasp his blonde curls, your chest very sensitive all of a sudden. You could feel that familiar organ probing at your folds, and— when did he put a condom on? You didn’t know, but relief would’ve coursed through you if you weren’t so aroused that you were practically drooling.

“Want it,” you whined out, scraping his scalp with desperation. “Coryo. Please.”

Huffing out a laugh, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He gave it a few tugs, made sure the precum pearled over and made a sticky white stain on the inside of the latex. He used the tip to part your pussy lips and find your hole. He pushed in, slow at first, but your pussy was so wet from whatever he slipped in your cup that it was almost easy. Even with his overwhelming size, your cunt accepted his cock greedily, sucking him inside your tight canal. Coryo groaned, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.

“Never had a cunt so tight,” he grunted against you. “even with all the men you sell yourself to, you’re still squeezing me like a fucking vice, sweetness.”

Your mouth dropped open, his words making you impossibly hornier. Usually you would be offended by such a vile statement, but his big cock was throbbing and wading through your walls with such precision that it had your legs shaking.

And Coriolanus had this charisma about him— something that made his words even more powerful than most. And after that statement, he just kept talking.

“Oh, Angel. My good, special girl,” his thrusts were impossibly fast now, the plap plap plap of his balls slapping against your sore and raw fucked pussy making you cry. “You’re mine now.”

His. His, his, his. Your fingernails dug into him, his chest touching yours sending tingles all throughout your body, and he kept spewing out dirty innuendos. You never thought being fucked could feel this good. His fingers reached down and rubbed your swollen clit, and it was like magic, the way your pussy spasmed and your orgasm washed over you. Seizing up, you mewled out his name as you came on him.

Coryo was mesmerized by your cunt squeezing him so tightly. Your pretty folds, lips spread out and wet, your hole sucking him in like he was meant to be there, like he was meant to fuck his cum into your womb, it was all so much. No amount of classism could keep him from you. Not after this. District or not, he would make you his gorgeous little wife. He would give you everything, love for you, kill for you. With the thought of this possession towards you, his hips began to stutter. Your eyes were closed, but you were still humping yourself against his awaiting thrusts. His balls drew taught, and he could feel his awaiting cum begin to flood the condom wrapped around his length.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

Not to Coriolanus. Not now— your pussy needed to be fucked full of his hot cum. You needed to be bred. And he was going to keep you and make sure of it.

Coriolanus watched your fluttering eyelids, the small smile grazing your features as his thrusts slowed. Something primal coursed through him, and he slowly pulled himself out of you. Watching your gaping hole made his cock twitch again, and he used his fingers to slowly twist the condom off of his cock. Full of his cum, he spread your lips with two fingers and turned the latex upside down. His spend dropped out of it and onto your used little hole, and you whimpered out as his cum splashed against your cunt.

“Coryo? What’r you doing?”

“Just getting you nice and wet for me, little bird. Close your eyes.. let me fuck you again.”

And like clockwork, his cock was probing your entrance for a second time— his sticky cum being pushed into your fertile womb by the tip of his pink mushroomed tip, his balls making more seed for your perfect pussy, and he was claiming your spent body with everything he had. <33

[mxtantrights]

Four times Red hood blushed because of you, and one time Jason Todd blushed.

The first time it happens you don’t notice. How could you when he wears that mask on his face all the time? It’s the two of you on a rooftop. You just raided a warehouse filled with scarecrows fear gas and made sure it didn’t land in the wrong hands.

You were coming off a high. That’s why you offered to get a bite to eat with Red. Red. That’s what you call him because you two are coworkers. You get the job done and have a few laughs, and part ways.

When he hands you a taco in silence you thank him in a stupidly wild accent that can't be real. And he chuckles. You hear it. You know you do, but you can't believe it. You made the Red Hood laugh!

It felt good. You wanted to make him laugh again.

What you didn't know was that he actually found it so cute. And was blushing underneath is mask.

2. The second time is an incredibly inappropriate time. The league had called on you to help them with an investigation. Which you were kind of feaking out about but trying to be cool.

You couldn't really be cool when Superman literally said your vigilante name out loud. You tried your hardest but you couldn't contain your excitement. You turned to Red hood and jumped up and down as soon as the meeting was over.

He laughed and told you yo calm down. But you started yapping about how Superman was the first hero you looked up to and how much of an honor it is that he knew who you were and acknowledged you.

Red Hood tells you that you remind him of the Robin that used to love Wonder Woman. Which makes you laugh and agree that that Robin knew what he was doing because he's right.

3. The third time is completely by accident. You're going down the zip line trying to get across from one building to another. And Red is waiting for you on the other side. It was your first time.

You scream the entire way as the speed picks up. Then before you know it, it's over. It's over and you're on top of another building but you can't quite find your footing. So you go crashing into the only thing there in front of you, which is Red.

He grabs you by the waist as the bath for you go down. You land with a groan. He cradles your fall entirely.

When you let out a breath and pick yourself up a bit, you're really close to his mask. The closest you've been to him since the two of you met.

He clears his throat and asks if you're okay. To which you nod, you're not about to go use your words when you know your tongue is heavy and you don't even know the alphabet. Red is tough and lean underneath you. You're aren't sure what you were expecting.

You pull yourself up quickly and offer him a hand to get up. He takes it and once again the two of you come face to face. Or, mask to mask. If he could see you now, fully he would see how hard you are flushing.

4. The forth time is rightfully earned. You just closed a case all on your own. No help from anyone. You did the investigation, you did the recon. And you got the perps into the hands of those who would deliver justice.

It was a pretty blood scene so you're a bit covered in it. Your suit is laden with blood stains and it got over some of your mask and face. You thought it would be better idea to shower in one of the safe houses rather than drag all the evidence back into your own home.

Red was there, cleaning his weapons like he usually does. And you walked in with all of that on you. It's like something in him just kickstarted. He looked at you, took you in, and all he could say was 'Hi'.

You gave him wave and told him you were going to shower the night off you.

As soon as you get into the bathroom, Jason smacks himself in the forehead.

5. It was a normal day. It was laundry day. You had a lot of shit to wash because honestly both your jobs keep you busy and you weren't about to send your things off to the cleaners.

You're in the local laundromat in great sweats and a blue hoodie. Your headphones are over your ears as you read through some threads online about Red. Not the ones trying to dissect his identity. The ones that are giving him credit for cleaning up the city.

So you're distracted when someone taps on your shoulder. You don't scare easily, and you know that if you're in trouble you can handle things. You turn around to see who it is and what they want.

A tall guy with a tuft of white hair amidst his dark brown hair. And his arms are practically poking out of his muscle tee. You haven't had a decent date in a while. A while being like a year now.

You remove your headphones.

"Can I help you?" you ask.

He nods, "Yeah, I'm sorry but I think you might have taken a piece of clothing into your dryer?"

He points over to the dryer. And there in the tumbling wad of clothes you try to decipher which piece of clothing is not yours. You can see a jacket you don't own. And a shirt that doesn't have any graphics on it, which means it's not yours.

Your eyes widen, "Wait seriously? I'm so sorry."

"Don't sweat it, I just wanted to know if I could pay you back sometime?" he asks.

You look at him then. Tall. Hot. Does his own laundry. Gotham is a cesspool but this guy is probably one of the good ones. Why not?

"Yeah?" you ask.

He looks away from you then for a second. His hand coming behind him to scratch as it his neck. And you see it. A very faint but still present blush dusts across his cheeks and down his neck.

a/n: based on this comment I got on a post! I hope he's bbg enough for you!!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 9

Clark Kent + sounding

I’ve spent all day drawing giraffes for class, so time to write. How has everyone’s October been so far?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Clark, or should he say Kal-El, was seated back in one of the seats in the fortress of solitude. He was naked from the waist down, legs spread open, and feet placed on the control panel in front of him as he panted audibly. Kryptonians couldn’t sweat, and at times like this Clark cursed such biology, as his body felt like it was burning up on the inside. Everything was so sensitive, so raw that even the brush of cold wind against his skin made him tense up and whimper.

This was all your fault, Clark decided. You were the one who had nicked the pink kryptonite from Bruces collection, claiming to want to study it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Bruce knew immediately what you were planning to do, you two had worked together for many years so of course he would know.

Clark could barely open his eyes to look at you as you stood between his shaking thighs, the muscle inside jumping and twitching, the kryptonian wanting to snap his thighs shut from how overstimulating your very presence was. You looked borderline gleeful as you watched him, you hadn’t had to touch Clark even once, only needing to pull out the thin cylinder of pink rocks to get Clark like this.

Your lover would twitch and stifle moans when you as much as brushed the pink kryptonite against him, the upper part of his suit already stained with stripes of pre. You could never quite get over just how big kryptonians were, and how much they produced.

Part of you had thought that Clark would be a gentleman, a real country boy coming to the big city vibe. That was until you two started dating and he got more comfortable, where you learned just how much of an animal he could be.

The noise Clark made as you finally grabbed him around the base reminded you a bit of a wounded animal, his entire body so tense in his attempts not to lose control of his super strength, or any other of his powers for that matter.

He was pulsing in your hand, which wasn’t uncommon, with you having gotten used to kryptonian libido and what came with it. But the deep red, almost purple tint to his tip made you flick your tongue against your lip. It was borderline impossible to ever overstimulate Clark, and at times very difficult to even edge him, especially to this point. Normally it would take hours, but this time it hadn’t even taken you thirty minutes.

Soft warbled words in what you knew was kryptonian passed his lips, mixed with different half formed curses and begs in a thicky accented voice. You loved how his accent would melt into his words when he got like this, or when he was feeling extra affectionate, how it became so clear that yes, he may be superman of krypton, but he is just as much Clark Kent of Smallville.

His tip oozed more than you were used too as you brought the cylinder of pink kryptonite closer, his shaft so slick you almost caught your hand slipping right off it. Clarks eyes were wide, pupils blown so far you could barely see a tiny ring of blue around them, as he seemed hyperfocused on what you were doing between his legs.

“Take a deep breath, alright Clark?” you mumble, eyes boring into his flushed face, waiting for him to audibly gulp in air as his chest expanded. His eyelashes were wet and clumped together, Clarks eyes flicking up to meet your own, looking so vulnerable and needy that you almost wanted to just pull him into your arms to hold him.

“You ready?” you purr out, smiling softly at his shaky but excited nod, his Adams apple bobbing as he gulped the spit in his mouth. With a shaky inhale of your own, you slowly work the rod of kryptonite downwards, watching Clark closely to make sure everything was as it should be.

His jaw dropped, but no noise passed through his lips, his eyes flickering a few shades of red before they rolled almost all the way back. His toes were curling and muscles tensing hard enough that you would have been worried, were he a normal human. Clark so clearly wanted to arch his back and writhe around, but he stayed still for you, letting you slowly push and pull the rod of kryptonite back and forth.

The praises that passed through your lips didn’t even seem to fully register for Clark, who seemed to almost be experiencing something akin to a holy experience. What little noises that did leave him were choked and whiny, like a chew toy whose squeaker had started breaking and leaking air. He was adorable, in his own musclebound, teary eyed kinda way, in a way that only really made sense because it was Clark.

“There we go, good boy Clark” you pant out, eyes transfixed on where you could see the faintly glowing space rock sinking and rising out of him, splashes of shiny pre gushing out with every outwards pull, further soaking his lower body and your hands. The praise seemed to register enough for Clark to give a scratchy grunt, his voice breaking again as the kryptonite pressed against some spot that made him forget to swallow, a line of drool running down his chin.

It was clear from the start that he wouldn’t have lasted long. Clark never really did, since he had close to no rest period between rounds, so why would he need to hold back when he would be ready to go again in two minutes, tops. The pink kryptonite only seemed to shorten his usual time, his entire body wriggling in his seat to notify how close he was.

With a loud pant you slowly pulled the rod out, watching how shiny it was, coated in all his fluids, spurts of pre squirting out of his slit like a fountain finally getting unblocked as you pulled the kryptonite out the last bit.

The squeeze around his base and an approving noise from you was all he needed to spill all over himself, Clarks body tensing even more, if that was even possible, as he exploded like volcano. The first many times you had been shocked at how hard he would finish, and how much there was. Even now, this time there seemed to be even more, and his orgasm lasted longer than you were used too.

When Clark finally slumped into the seat, his entire torso, all the way up to his chin, was covered in thick splashes of white, when you were covered in quite a lot of it, but that you had expected. You had also expected that Clark would at least be somewhat out of it, just because you were involving a type of kryptonite. That meant you weren’t too shocked when he didn’t react as you put the kryptonite away in its lead box, to be cleaned later, or when you tried to wipe you both down the best you could.

Luckily you were used to carrying him around, so it wasn’t too hard to pick your still shivering lover up. You had a feeling he was purring, your difference in species just meant you couldn’t hear it, but the barely noticeable thrum to his throat as it rested against your shoulder was telling enough. Clark nuzzled against you with a relieved sigh, eyes shut and body limp, proving that even the man of steel could be wrung out one way or another. You just hoped you hadn’t traumatized the other residents of the fortress, even if they weren’t completely alive like Clark or you.

[hatsukeii]

think fast / childhood bsf!tsukshima kei x reader

genre(s): childhood best friends x soulmates???? past lives and normal people by sally rooney coded im a sally rooney MEATRIDER!! angsty, gut-wrenching longing, bittersweet / hopeful ending so it's not all bad!! nostalgia is going to carry this fic so hard it's going to be a fun, fun time...

warning(s): eventual smut!! all characters are aged up to 21!!MDNI (at least up until the observatory)!! unprotected sex here remember to wrap it before you tap it!! (sorry kids), female leaning anatomy because smut but pronouns are gn all throughout and honestly you could read it as gn anyways:)) dead dad warning (my dad is NOT dead this was just convenient to kick off the thing), i fw the timeline of the world??? pretend flip phones were still in use in like 2012 or something idk

wc: ~6.3k

tldr; time has a way of reminding Kei of its presence, and its escape. you are the reminder it has been sending to him for six years.

Fate: A power believed to cause and control all events, so that one cannot change or determine the way things will happen. 

It is a sunny afternoon when you step foot into Sendai, Miyagi. A beautiful day of golden warmth beaming onto petals of pink, red, and white, wrapped in coffee-stained newspapers and tied together with a spool of twine. The bouquet lies on browning grass, a contemptible reminder of the time that has passed since your last appearance here, six years ago, and you crouch down to the ground. Now face to face with the engraving of a full name on a slab of polished granite, you hesitate. Your father lived in a language that you can no longer speak, died in a country you no longer call your home. When you whisper blessings and apologies at the gravestone in broken Japanese and slurred syllables, you sound like a stranger. A stranger who sits in a graveyard at noon, with nothing but a bouquet from the nearby florist in hand, and a promise, stuttered out in half-decent Japanese, to return again the next year. 

When a second bouquet falls to the ground behind you, and you turn around, Tsukishima Kei thinks this is what English speakers like you would call fate. He’s a little taller now, and bulkier too, and you have to crane your head higher than you remember just to meet his eyes. You don’t recognise the glasses he dons anymore, the black rectangles from his teenage years swapped out for rounded squares and silver frames. But he has a towel in his hand, a towel that has his initials poorly stitched into the corner with red string. You wonder if the matching one he made you, eleven years ago, is collecting dust somewhere in your dormitory, halfway across the world. 

“You’re back.”

“It’s been a while, Kei.”

You can no longer differentiate Japanese syllables clearly, and your statement jumbles into nonsense in your head. Kei hears the English woven into your accent in the way you roll your tongue like foreigners do, and in the odd intonations that don’t exist in your mother tongue. You don’t even remember your father’s dislike for white flowers. London has truly done a number on you. 

“Why? Why now?”

You bite your nail, a persistent habit that Kei frowns at. He picks up his flowers, and steps towards the gravestone, just close enough for your knee to brush against him for a moment. The bouquet in his hand is wrapped in plastic and filled with red and pink, the white from your own sticking out like a sore thumb when he places his flowers gently on the grass beside yours. He tosses the towel in his hand, opening it up against his palm, and you take it from him. If you cannot get the language right, or the flowers, this is the least you can do. Cobwebs stick to the fabric as you sweep at the granite slab, watching soot and dust fall to the grass. The curves and dips of the gravestone are familiar once again, and you dig the towel into every nook and cranny. You feel Kei’s body shift, before his knee is touching yours and his face is finally level with your peripheral vision. He glances at you, waiting. His knees bounce in anticipation. 

“Never had the chance, college has been a lot.”

Your phone rings as you finish cleaning. The ringtone is familiar, unchanged from when you used to have a flip phone, in fact. Kei hums along to the jingle for the four seconds that the call is left unanswered, before it cuts off into a flurry of English. He catches something about research, and a thesis, his shabby English unable to fill in any more than that. He’s never known you were interested in research, let alone what it is that you’re researching. All he’s known is your aspiration of becoming a librarian when you were six, and his promise to borrow books from you for the museum that he swore he would one day work at. Now, he works at the museum, sorts antique scripts and yellowed books into cabinets and display shelves. He does not borrow books from you. Now, you talk, but nothing makes sense to him.

You end the call, mumbling foreign curses as you shove your phone back into your pocket. Clicking your tongue, you turn to Kei, who stares at the flowers on the ground. He pushes his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and you resist the familiar urge to nag him about buying the right frames for his face. 

“Yeah, college has been mostly phone calls like that.”

He nods, a half-hearted chuckle huffing from his nose. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit at a graveyard with somebody else, the annual reminder of a lonely death replaced by another this year as you dust off his towel, and drop it onto his thigh. He swipes it from his leg, folding it into quarters and sliding it into his pocket. 

“So you choose to come now, without a word? Not even a heads up? Six years after leaving?” Kei’s voice rises at each question, the same way it did six years ago when you broke the news of leaving Japan to him. This hurts him to ask, that much you can still recognise.

“I would have come sooner if I had the chance. I’ve missed everyone so much.”

You pluck a petal from a white flower in your bouquet, then another, until all that remains is the naked bulb, and scatter them onto the ground beside you. Perhaps the next person that’s been buried under six feet of dirt used to have a liking for them. Kei remains unmoving, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His knee stops bouncing. 

“How long will you stay for?”

“Today, then Friday and Saturday too. Flight back is Sunday night.”

Six years of waiting, and this is what it amounts to. A weekend and a bit. Despite that, Kei still thinks this must be fate, in all the languages that it exists in. Six years of life, and love, and hurt, all to be condensed into four measly days. Yet as Kei pushes himself off the ground, dusting his trousers off, he still thinks that this unlikely, yet conveniently timed visit must be the answer to his pleas for your return. That this must be some heavenly reward, good karma for visiting your father’s grave annually on your behalf. You watch him turn to leave, and he calls out to you as he walks away from your father’s grave. 

“Everyone’s at Hinata’s old place tomorrow. You should come by if you can.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Change: to replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).

All it takes is one coincidental exchange of panicked glances at the first throw up of the night for you and Kei to leave together. Hinata slurs a drunken farewell, tries to embrace you as you slip your sneakers on at the door, and you make a note to yourself that you really do not miss most of the people here, spare for the volleyball team. Kei waits at the door, holding it open for when you finally shake Hinata off of your back, and step through. The night is chilly, the warmth in your skin from the indoor heating system emanating into the midnight air. You kick rocks along the pavement as you walk, scattering pigeons that remain awake and active at this time, and Kei smiles at your antics. You still hate birds, and you still remember the trick he taught you when you were nine for chasing away pigeons that flocked around you for food. 

“Who are you staying with?”

“My mom’s.”

The road leads the two of you to a high school. Kei has not come back to Karasuno since graduation. You squint in the dark, scanning the school, and you don’t recognise the new building that stands in place of the old auditorium. He watches you crouch at the plaque next to the front gate, tracing the letters engraved on it with the pad of your thumb. Some part of him blames Karasuno for being a bad place to you, the other parts blame himself for not being good enough to outweigh it.

“It’s changed.”

“Everything has.”

You rattle the locked entrance, the chain and padlock hitting against cold metal. It won’t open, so you look up through the gap of the gate. Six years ago, on that rooftop, was where you stood over a cold lunch box and emptied convenience store drinks, back against the wire fence, saying to Kei, I’m leaving tomorrow. On that day, you had packed yakisoba for his lunch, and nothing for yourself. He could barely respond to your announcement, only dropping his chopsticks and asking you, why? You told him something along the lines of being an expat, and a better school for what you wanted, all in the fluent Japanese you once spoke. Nothing made sense to him anyways. 

When you turn back to him, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and his nose is red from the cold air. You stand beside him, staring aimlessly at Karasuno from outside its barriers. 

“Do you still play volleyball?” 

“Yeah, Sendai Frogs.”

You hum, and then wonder why you only asked tonight, and why you’re surprised. He shrugs, clouds of white puffing from his mouth when he breathes out. He tries to blow a wisp of hair away from his face, and you suddenly realise that his hair has grown too, along with his height. It fails, and he tries again. You reach up to swipe at his bangs, before running your fingers backwards through his hair. It parts itself as you lift your hands from his head, and falls into place neatly. A cold breeze whizzes by, and undoes your work, sending strands of gold into his face once again. You snicker a little.

“You know, you could ask my mom to trim it for you like she used to.”

“Nah, I prefer this.”

It isn’t until you turn to look at him properly that you see how much time has passed. He likes his hair longer these days, the choppy hairdo of his teenage years now nothing but an old preference, and you wonder if he is still a loyal customer of your mother’s salon. When he pulls his hands from his pockets and blows hot air into them, calluses line the bases of his fingers, the blisters of his high school years hardened by trials of time and effort. There are bags under his eyes, eyes that are now a little rounder, and softer too. When he speaks, monotone and tired, you realise his snarkiness has dissipated into general frustration. You stare until his eyes dart to you, and turn away quickly, ashamed. Leaving Karasuno has taken your hand and led you to a purpose that you never knew you were capable of. You wonder what the hell it has done to Tsukishima Kei. 

“It looks good.”

He breathes in sharply, then exhales with a huff, shoulders relaxing as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. You suddenly realise that your fingers have gone numb from the cold of the night, fingertips tingling like a million frost-bitten needles poking into your skin. You also stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against each other to generate some heat. Then, Kei’s looping his arm around yours, and pulling you away from Karasuno High School. He keeps on his straight path, and you stumble along behind his leaping steps. When you round a corner, the night breeze grows into something less imperturbable, and more vicious, pushing the two of you forward from behind in slashes of cold. The sea is near. 

“Is this the beach we used to go to?”

“You still remember it.”

He drags you down a flight of stairs to Fukanuma Beach, and the misty sea air rushes to your head. When he leads you to the shoreline, you hesitate. The sea has been off limits since the two of you were five, a regulation put in place in remembrance of the Great Sendai Earthquake. An earthquake that saw Kei and yourself hunched beneath the same table in the middle of class, huddled next to each other as you cried for your parents. Now, in your final years of college, as the water slips beneath the soles of his shoes, pushing and receding in layers of aqua and bubbles of white, it seems that time has slipped by just as easily too. Time, that saw the fading of the earthquake’s devastation, despite the loss of thousands, including your father. Time, that frayed the string connecting yourself to Kei as you moved through life halfway across the world from Japan. Time, that passes through you like sand spilling between your fingers on a beach you once thought you knew, but has changed like the unprohibited water that seems to push further up into the shore at each tidal wave. 

“They lifted the ban?”

“A few months ago, yeah.”

You step into the next wave that fizzles into foam, and the water crashes into the toe of your shoes. Crouching, you push mounds of wet sand into a cylinder, flattening the top and pushing divots in equal intervals. Kei joins, moulding shorter ones beside your own and drawing windows into the side. You finish, and he stands, smiling at the creation. You cover the top, afraid he will stomp on it, a trademark of Kei’s whenever you built sandcastles with him in childhood. Instead, he laughs, and walks further into the water. When you get up to join him, the hems of his trousers are soaked, shoes also covered in a sheen of wetness. You hop over the castle, and the next wave that comes sends its foundations crumbling back into the sea. 

“We used to do that. You’d destroy it every time.”

Kei chuckles, and looks back to see the half destroyed castle. Clicking his tongue, he returns to the rubble, and you watch his hands push mounds of sand towards what is left standing. 

“I’d always build a better one for you afterwards though.”

He dusts his hands off when he finishes, and the waves fizzle out just before they hit the two-tiered sandcastle. You sniff, holding your arms close to your chest. When Kei looks up, he feels like the summer of being seven years old again, smiling at you with his missing front tooth when you sniffle and laugh at the improved castle he’s put together for you. Now, it is winter. He only grins with the corners of his lips. You only sniff because it’s cold. 

“Kei.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really been a while. How have you been?”

He steps over the castle towards you, careful not to break it. Your hair blows in your face from the beach breeze and your eyes squint from the sand that flies into the air, and Kei takes it all in when you’re face to face with him. When he opens his mouth, some selfish part of him thinks about casting his words into shackles of regret, so heavy that they weigh you down and keep you in Japan, in Sendai, on this beach, somewhere close to him.

“Do you want to stay the night? Like you used to?”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Nostalgia: A sentimental longing, or wistful yearning for a return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.

Kei does not take you to his family house. He leads you up stairs that make no sense, and hallways that stretch on forever, until you finally reach his flat. He wipes his shoes on the doormat, throws his keys into a glass bowl upon entry, and hangs his jacket on a hook mounted to his front door instead of the coathanger that used to stand beside it. You look around, searching for the shells you once collected in a jar for his tenth birthday. When your eyes land on a jar filled with conches and cowries, you let go of a breath you were unaware of holding. They sit on the top of his bookshelf, above textbooks and file organisers. A knot forms in your throat at the realisation that the jar sits alone in its compartment, with nothing beside it. You’ve done the same to the jazz vinyl Kei gifted you at the airport before your departure. You don’t realise that he’s disappeared somewhere as you stare at the shells, until a shirt and a pair of shorts are thrown into your chest. He stands at the entrance to a hallway, donning sweatpants and an old hoodie, one that’s clearly a size too small. The pocket is lousily sewn on, a result of a mishap that occurred when you had borrowed it once. He doesn’t know that you spent the night learning to sew fabric just to fix it.

“Change. It’ll be more comfortable.”

You scurry through the hallway to his bathroom, pulling the shirt and shorts on hastily, before balling up your clothes and returning to the living room. Kei sits at his couch, now bound in leather instead of fabric, and clicks at the television. You join beside him, legs splaying across his own subconsciously. He doesn’t move. He stops at a movie, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before at his old house. It drones on in the background as he watches in silence, his arms now draped over your knees. The first time he watched this movie, it was in his old home, cross-legged on the carpeted ground with you on the couch behind him. Your hands used to press into his shoulders from above, shake them whenever your favourite scenes came on, squeeze them when you laughed until tears rolled from your eyes. Now that his new flat lacks a rug, he’s willing to settle with your legs on his own. Flashing lights illuminate the dark room in sequences that you can still recall perfectly from memory. He watches the movie. You watch him. 

“Have you been doing good, Kei?”

Turning to you, he pushes his glasses up into his hair, leaning further back. You shuffle closer, legs bending as your shoulder digs into the leather couch. A strand of blond falls into his face, and you lift his glasses to tuck it back, before smoothing your hands over his mess of hair, combing and pushing with your fingertips.The words from the television melt into gibberish when he hums in satisfaction, what is unspoken between you two is more glaring than ever.

“I’ve been okay.” He cuts off, then finds himself thinking of what to tell you first, amongst the recollections of life that rush through his head. “Started working at the museum a couple years ago.” He wishes that you still remember the building, where the marble floors squeaked beneath your slippers, and glass panels lined the walls, hiding away treasures and artefacts that have withstood centuries, maybe even eons of erosion and weathering.

You nod, mind filling with the many museum visits you had with him there. He’s always liked the dinosaurs more than the shells. When you breathe out a chuckle, he knows you’re recalling the time he almost pissed himself at a life-sized, moving tyrannosaurus rex model. 

“What about you?”

“Research. I’ve been doing research about…” you sign in the air, searching for the Japanese words that have slipped from your mind. Surrendering, you whip your phone out, searching for a translation. 

“Archaeology?”

“Yeah, that. No more librarian dreams for me. More dinosaurs, though.”

A smile finds its way onto Kei’s face, one that softens his cheeks and flattens his eyes into crescents. He wonders if amongst the silver plaques and digital displays, your work is engraved in there somewhere. If each time he explains something to some bright-eyed child, who scuttles around the museum as you and him once did, he is unknowingly speaking in your language, translated until he can decipher the thoughts that run through your mind in your research, your memories, your dreams too. 

“Maybe it’s in the museum somewhere. I’m willing to bet.”

“I hope it is.”

Your conversation fizzles back into silence, and the characters on the television do too. The two on the screen sit in a field, mere inches apart. The two of you look at each other, your knees now leaned into Kei’s chest and one of his arms draped along the back of the couch. When he pulls his glasses back to his eyes, and studies you all over again, it hits him that you really haven’t changed all that much, even after your six year separation. Six years older, with the exhaustion of a functioning adult, but you still gnaw on your cheeks, and tilt your head as you ask questions. Six years apart, and you are still you, who taught him to build sandcastles, and introduced him to his favourite movie, and fixed his hair whenever it stuck up in stubborn peaks of gold. When you let your eyes close, and drop your head onto his shoulder, you wait for lost time to tick backwards, until you’re on the rooftop with him once again. In this version of time, you blush when you tell him that you’ve chosen to stay in Japan instead. Pushing your head further into the crook of his neck, Kei’s chin reaches over to rest on the top of your crown. The credits of the movie roll in the background, and you mumble into the skin of his pulse. 

“Can you take me there? I’ve missed it.” Your words send vibrations down his spine, sending his head into a frenzy as he pushes his hands against the couch harder. 

“The museum?” It will be closed for the weekend, but Kei nods anyway. He’s sure he can find his way in through the back. Maybe he’ll take you to the fossils again, let you run your fingers along smooth amber and stone engravings. Perhaps he could show you the new exhibitions, ones that you won’t miss this time, as you have for the past six years. For now, he thinks he will let you sleep on his shoulder, listen to your soft snores, tremble at every hot breath that fans onto his neck. 

The credits roll to the end, and come to a stop. Kei removes his arm from the couch to grab the remote from his coffee table. He rewinds the movie to the start.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

思慕 [しぼ, shibo]: yearning; deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.

On the final night of your stay, you learn that Kei still giggles when he breaks rules, as he drags you through the back entrance of the closed museum. He maneuvers through hallways of antique paintings and repurposed junk, slips into dark stairwells illuminated by the flashlight of his phone, traps your wrist between his fingers and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he takes you higher, and higher, and higher. You’ve lost count of how many flights of stairs have gone by when he taps his keycard against a sensor by a backdoor, and pushes it open. The museum observatory, once a mess of bamboo scaffolding and green covers, now allows silver moonlight through its glass dome, boasting billions of iridescent stars nestled in a blanket of hazy midnight. A decade of your anticipation has resulted in a circular space, hundreds of plush recliners lining the circumference of the room, and you wonder how many eyes have watched the stars from those seats before you ever had the chance to. When Kei leads you further into the observatory, you step foot onto the north star plastered on the ground in the centre of the room, where nothing but a telescope remains in a ten-foot radius. He takes a spot on the ground, back pressed against the cushioned edge of a seat.

“I figured this is the best spot. Better than any of the seats, actually.” He plants his feet on the ground, bending his knees and spreading them just wide enough for you to sit in between. You cross your legs, wagging them up and down as your hands hold your shins, and he lowers his legs, stretching them out in front of him. Leaning back, your spine hits a spot between his ribs, the same way it did when you were thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen, staring at stars from the grass of his backyard. You pity the visitors that have yet to discover the simplicity of stargazing from the ground, hands pushed into the ground for stability, dirt and moisture seeping into the fabric of clothing. Pushing further into him, his breathing is heavy against your back, chest rising in rhythmic ups and downs. For what feels like hours, you sit in silence, eyes trained on your fingers that pick and fiddle. At the realisation that you haven’t looked at the stars in years, something bubbles in your stomach, pervasive, relentless. When you finally loll your head backwards to fall on his shoulder, and the tip of Kei’s nose grazes your cheekbone, you wonder how long he has not looked at the stars for as well. 

“Why’d you stop calling?” His sudden question sends a haze rushing into your head.

You swallow thickly. If the passage of time were a sin, you’d burden it with all your explanations. Telling him that now would seem like some lousy excuse.

“It stopped going to your line a year after I left.” You pause, searching for the right words to use amidst the sea of Japanese and English that you must now sort out. “I only stopped trying after another month, the voicemail just said your number was no longer in use.” 

Kei wishes he could dig his fingers into his chest and rip his heart out. If only he hadn’t stupidly broken his phone that night, five years ago during volleyball practice. If only he had checked his pockets before entering the court, just as he has done hundreds of times before. If only he had this, if only he had that, he might just torment himself for the rest of his life. His breath hitches, shoulder freezing rigid. Time does not differentiate between the knowing and oblivious. It slips and leaks beneath the noses of all that it encompasses, and it is but the cautious few that know to grab it, and join in on its journey. He knows now that he is not one of them, not after he’s cursed at the passage of time over and over and over for his own blunder.

“I broke my phone in a game. Got a new one so the number changed as well, fuck me.”

You laugh dryly into the empty observatory. The occasional twinkling of the stars above do nothing to make his explanation any easier. You think you’ll blame it all on doomed fate that you’ve spent five years trying to find somebody that felt the same as Kei did, to no avail. Blame it on cursed luck that you’ve clawed and grabbed at anything familiar enough, archaeology, jazz vinyls, old DVDs of the movie shared between two, all to remind yourself that he too, was once within grasp. You say nothing, because you don’t see a reason to. Instead, you push your head into his neck, drown in the scent of his cologne, ease yourself into his now grown body. You don’t see him wipe a hand across his mouth, then rub his eyes with pinched fingers. 

When Kei decides to speak again, it is what feels like another hour later. He’s readjusted his posture about fifty times by now, arms removed from the ground and draped over your shoulders. The sensation of your hair against his skin is suddenly more prominent than ever when your hands find his own, holding them closer to yourself.

“If I didn’t find you at the grave, would you have looked for me?” His question is heavy, weighing his chest down as the words leave his throat in a hesitant cluster. You turn to look at him, and your eyes linger on his own when you squeeze his hands once, twice, then a third time. 

“I’ve been looking for five years. Nobody else could take me home.” Your heart rushes to your mouth at your confession, and the bob of Kei’s throat does not go unnoticed. One of his hands comes up to hold your shoulder, pushing it towards himself until your body twists, rubbing against his. You let go of him, pressing your fingers into the ground between his legs instead, and he breathes out shakily, his windpipe suddenly cleared of its uncertainty.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, I am.”

His fingers slide down to grab your wrist, before going numb completely. His unoccupied hand peels itself from the floor and settles on the side of your waist. Your mouth goes dry when Kei breathes, hot and heavy, his eyes travelling to every inch of you. A bout of heat rushes from his chest to his head, and his legs, and his arms too. The air between the two of you is thick, and it sends your head into a feverish blur. The ground collapses beneath your knees as they shift to press into the floor, and you come face to face with Tsukishima Kei, who prefers his hair parted in bangs on the sides of his face, and wears silver frames instead of black ones. Tsukishima Kei, who has been visiting your father’s grave on your behalf for six years, and still plays volleyball even in his adulthood. Tsukishima Kei, whose eyes are finally finished with their ventures across your figure, that is pushed up against him on the ground of an observatory, and is learning whatever he can about you when his fingers tighten around your wrists and he kisses you without a warning. 

Once, at the young, innocent age of seven, Tsukishima Kei kissed you in this museum. You had run a little too fast, stepped on your loose laces and fallen onto the ground face first. You sulked at a bench facing some random painting of melting clocks, red dots scattered across a purple patch right beneath your eye. When he kneeled in front of you to grab your face, and pressed his lips onto the bruise for a fraction of a second, he must have kissed the pain away, mending the leaking capillaries beneath your skin as he separated from your cheeks with a pop. Now, he pulls against your wrists to push himself closer, traps you in the embrace of his legs around the back of your thighs, wheezes and stutters against your lips at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His head is running in circles instead of straight paths, and everything is spinning. When your hands reach to grab at his shirt, and palm at his chest, he pulls away only to rip his glasses off and toss them to the ground. Beneath the glow of the moon from above, everything but your flushed cheeks and swollen lips is a blur. You take half a breath in, before it is interrupted by Kei’s palms pulling you in by the sides of your neck, and his mouth on yours again. At seven years old, he ripped bruising pain away from your face with a kiss. At twenty-one, he forces his pain, and grief, and regret rushing into your heart by pushing himself against you, fingers tangling themselves into your hair as he kisses you, desperate, almost distressed. Every tug at your lips is a confession left unspoken, every time Kei opens his mouth apologies spill out into you in choked groans and sighs. At the sensation of his hand leaving your neck, your arm searches for him aimlessly, before he’s palming at you through your pants. He swallows your sudden gasp, and your fingers grip his wrist until your knuckles go white. 

“Did you ever like me?” You can do nothing but choke out a question against his lips, one you’ve pondered about, day in and day out, since your departure from Japan.

By the way that Kei nods frantically, you’re certain that this is what six years of separation has amounted to. 

Sparing no time, your fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to release himself from the fabric constraints. He does the same, hands roaming until they find the waistband of your pants to push them down, fingers tugging your underwear to the side with a flick. He grabs you by the waist beneath your shirt, yanks your body towards him until something feels right and he can’t help but let out a trembling sigh into your shoulder. And when you finally begin to sink yourself onto him, agonisingly slow, you wish that you had never left Japan in the first place. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you wish that you could spend the rest of your life in this observatory with Kei, your hands wrapped around the back of his sweat-slicked neck. 

When he pulls you down to push further, more pervasively, you fall into him, head hanging over his shoulder and arms squeezing around his neck. His inexperienced hands rock you back and forth against his hips, pulling a flurry of gasps and moans from your throat. He lets himself learn how you taste when his teeth tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to expose your bare shoulder. His lips latch onto your collarbone, biting and sucking a trail of red marks up to the side of your neck. You shudder at his advances, and he studies the way your walls flutter around him, the erratic pulses that draw stars around his head, how your nails dig into his shoulders, and send his mind into a senseless orbit. 

When he pushes and pulls at you a little harder, you whimper his name into his ear, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess that nibbles at his neck and kisses up his jaw feverishly. First friend, first kiss, first love. The notion that this is another first that Tsukishima Kei has brought upon you sends your mind spiralling. He should have been your first prom date, first roommate, first dance too. If only you hadn’t left him first. You push your head off his shoulder, hands moving to hold his face instead. A wave of pleasure washes over you when his palm presses against your stomach, and you hang your head low again, a shaky sigh released from your chest. 

When you look up, there are tears in Kei’s eyes. He rolls his head back onto the plush seat behind him, hands lifting you off himself fully, just to push you back onto him again. You collapse into his body, palms pressing against his heaving chest. 

“I- fuck! I fucking loved you! I still do!” He speaks it into the glass ceiling as one hand reaches for his face. He wipes his palm across his eyes, only for more tears to form. They are uncontrollable, relentless as he turns his head away from you. He isn’t sure how he will live again tomorrow, not when he’s finally come to a reckoning with the pang in his chest at every thought of you. He thinks he could die the second you step onto that flight back to London, ripped away from him once again. The reality that he cannot stay buried inside you for any longer than the next couple of minutes haunts him to no end, the idea of being separated from you a second time unbearable to even imagine. When he turns back to see you, head on his chest and fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he decides that reality can wait until he’s finished with you. 

“I love you too- shit, Kei! I never stopped!”

You rut against his hips senselessly now, chasing some unfamiliar high as your vision fades to black and you scream his name until your throat goes hoarse. Kei barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s coming undone from right beneath you, shuddering and groaning as you relax against his body and go limp. He holds you against him, one hand pushing your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your back. He tucks your damp hair behind your ears, places kisses along your temple so he can hear the hums of satisfaction that sound from your curled lips. 

“Can you stay forever?” He mumbles into your hair, and you turn to press your ear against his chest. His heart pounds as he pushes his cheek into the crown of your head, and your hands crawl up his chest to wrap around his neck. When he looks up through the glass ceiling, the stars have not moved one bit.

“I’ll find you again, wherever you are.”

Time may slip away from Tsukishima Kei like petals that fall off the buds of flowers, water that seeps beneath the soles of his sneakers, stardust that hovers above the atmosphere. Yet he has learned that it has a way of always coming back to remind him of its presence, and its escape. You are the reminder that it has been sending to him for six years.

author's note:

ERM! never writing nsfw again that's for sure but this piece defs had some stuff that i was very, VERY proud of coming up with!! sorry to my minor moots who probably won't read this in its entirety bc of the big MDNI warning... but I honestly don't know how to feel about this piece as a whole... i was super excited to write it but i think i got a little impatient towards the end esp since im always writing at like 3am LOL but i hope you guys liked it anyways!!! i tried really hard to make the dynamic work and i hope it did!!!!!

also ps they exchange numbers again js a little extra bonus that i didn’t get to put into the actual thing

anyways tags!!

@staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @akaakeis @laughingfcx @writingsofanomnivore @t0rchknight @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @hiraethwa @fiannee @catsoupki @anonymity-222 @wishi-selfships @kuroppiii

ok love u guys thank u for being patient

[muffinpink02]

please share your unholy thoughts about that Alexia white top picture pls. don’t hold back. pls. pls.

Smut 18

My thoughts? 

Like how it would feel to run your thumbs over her perky nipples, while you straddle her lap? 

Smiling to yourself as she tries to hold back a throaty moan, but it still easily escapes her mouth. You know her nipples are sensitive, you know she loses her mind just by the simplest touch on the small, but very sensitive buds. 

Alexia's nipples are her kryptonite. 

The blonde can barely speak when you're touching them. You know she gets embarrassingly wet, when you’re anywhere near them. 

Biting them.

Sucking them.

Pinching them.

Flicking them.

Kissing them.

Clamping them.

You know she’s trying not to let it get to her as you gently pinch her flesh through the thin fabric, but her large hands squeezing your hips tell a different story. 

“Fuck!” She gasps into your mouth as you feel her nipples strain against the fabric, under the tips of your nimble fingers.

It was a blur really, she was only showing you what she was going to wear in the tunnel before the game. 

You took one look at her, then you were on her. 

Alexia’s nipples were also your kryptonite. 

You slipped your hands under the tiny vest, gliding your short nails against her hard stomach as you always did. Loving the way her hips rocked up into your core. 

Her moaning became loud. 

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, kissing the vein that lived on the left side of her throat. You didn’t know what it was about the body part that turned you on so much, maybe because it came out when she was nervous, or excited or angry, or the way it stained against her skin when she was above you, fucking you from an inch of your life.

Or they way it pulsated when you were your three fingers deep inside her, your lips wrapped around her clit, watching her head fling back as she came undone under your touch. But whatever it was, you had to have your mouth on it. 

You pussy throbbed as you felt the artery pump against your tongue, you couldn’t stop yourself as you sucked roughly on her flesh. You smiled wickedly at the way her breath quickened as she felt your tongue glide up her long vein, kissing her skin as you felt her pulse quicken against your lips. 

You push the fabric up, exposing the rose coloured buds. You slowly move your kisses down from her throat to her chest. You don’t wait around, you suck the left bud into your mouth, you can't help the groan that escapes your mouth as you feel the flesh against your tongue.

“Hmmm, please!” She begs as her eyes shut, a small cute frown creases between her brows. 

You’re not sure what she’s begging for, but you don’t stop, you swirl your tongue around the tight bud. You can feel the small bumps of her areole as you tease your tongue against her, it makes your mouth water. Your taste buds dribble like you have your favourite meal in your mouth. 

Your hand cups her other breast, squeezing it as you suckle the strained nipple in your warm mouth.Her hips are moving harder against you, it’s almost hard to keep yourself on her. Her moans become louder, she’s completely losing herself to you as her body thrusts below you. 

Alexia’s losing her wits. It’s so fucking cute and so fucking hot they way she whimpers, the way her hips are grinding hard into you, but you ignore the heat between your own legs. You just want to feel her, you want her just like this, at your complete mercy, it was the only time the girl lost all control.

You pull back, biting the flesh just hard enough to make her cry out. 

“Amor!” She squeaks, her hips never stop moving, one of her hands moves from your waist and into your hair, wanting to have some control, but it's pitiful really, she doesn't have any control right now. The normally composed, calm and collected blonde is an utter mess beneath you. Her small gasps and whimpers are flooding your brain, she almost sounds like she's going to come as her chest rises 

“You’re so desperate baby.” You whisper, blowing cold air to her wet swollen nipple.

She's withering under you, she can’t even think straight let alone compose a snarky reply to your comment. She is desperate, her body can't help but surrender to your touches. She tries to reply but it just comes out to a low grunt. She can feel her arousal ruining her underwear, becoming so uncomfortably wet as you break her apart.

You move to her other breast, you slowly glide your tongue over the perk, she tries to push you closer, but you don’t move. Instead you give the sensitive bud a gentle kiss, then spit on it. 

“Fuck, si, si. M'encanta, quan fas això, amor.” She gasps as her hips pick up a relentless pace. 

You chuckle against her spit covered nipple, taking it into your mouth, lathering and suckling on it like she was your lifeline. You're losing your own composure, Alexia’s hips are thrusting so hard, it makes you bite a little harder than you meant to, making the girl tug at your hair, but she only moans louder. 

You groan at the pain, but it only makes you suck harder. You're grinding your own hips into her now, you're like two excited teenages dry humping for the first time, both lost in the other's touch. The loud pleasured moans that drip from her mouth, the filthy sounds of you sucking and slurping at her flesh bounce off the walls.

“Bebé.” She groans as you graze your teeth against her, her bottom lip comes between her teeth as her breathing starts to pick up. You watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She looks so fucking good but surely she can’t be close?

No? She can't be? Not just from this? Those are the tell-tell signs that you know all too well. She's going to come. 

“You going to come for me baby?” You mumble with her nipple still in your mouth.

She nods, her hazel eyes finally catching yours. You take the opportunity to spit on her chest again, letting her see the way you clean her back up. 

“Merda!” Her head falls back, her vein pulsates against her skin as her hips brutally thrash against you. 

You suck and bite the rosy bud into your mouth, never taking your eyes off of the girl above you, your free hand rolling the other nipple between your fingers, just the way you know she likes, not too hard, not too soft. 

And she's coming undone.

“Fuck!” The girl lets out a deep moan as you keep her in your mouth, the hand in your hair pushes you against her chest, not wanting you to leave her and of course you don’t dare move. 

Alexia’s cunt throbs against nothing, it's almost painful the way her clit cries out for stimulation but still manages to let her body orgasm at the touch of her nipples being played with. 

“Oh déu meu, oh déu meu!” She breathes out as her climax rushes over her body. 

You keep suckling, gently letting your tongue sweep over her. The hand in your hair loosens as her hips come to a slow stop. You gently pull back, releasing her nipple with a loud wet pop of your swollen lips.

You smile proudly, watching as Alexia catches her breath. You can't believe you just made her come, you hadn't even slipped your hand between her legs. 

Her hazel eyes finally lock with yours, the moment of bliss finally starts to mix with a realisation of her very quick, very easy orgasm.

“I’m that good hmm?” You tease as you bring your lips to hers.

“Don’t tease me!” She whines between kisses.

There was no way you would ever let her live this down.

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2

part three ??

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.

It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.

And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.

So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.

He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.

With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.

But you already knew.

Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.

You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.

“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.

“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.

“What can I help you with, Miles?”

He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.

“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.

You look at him for a moment before shrugging.

“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.

“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.

The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.

“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.

He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.

“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.

Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.

“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.

“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.

“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.

“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.

“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.

“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.

He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.

After two days a package shows up at your door.

When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.

You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.

You dont see Miles again for two weeks.

“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.

He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.

You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.

“Whats troubling you?” You ask.

“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.

“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”

Miles shrugs

“How much was it? I can pay you back-“

“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.

You pause.

“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.

Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.

“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.

“…excuse me?”

“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.

“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.

“Oh. because I dont want to.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows.

“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.

Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.

“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.

You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.

You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.

He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.

He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.

His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.

“Goodnight Miles.”

“…..goodnight y/n.”

When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.

You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.

On your bedside table there was another note.

“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”

You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.

tags:

@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

[fayesia]

Freak

Martin (In The Modern World - Fontaines D.C.)

warnings: nsfw 18+, readers lowkey mean to Martin, p in v, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, doggy style, handjob, squirting, fingering, spit play, creampie, hair pulling, rimming (brief), p with a little plot, filthy words on a screen :D

You were always cautious. Walking the same route home. Past the cobbled roads, the dark forested pine trees, and old abandoned buildings. None screamed safety nor comfort, neither of which you expected when moving into the area.

As long a you were free. Successfully escaping the pressures in your life, the heavy weight of hands pressing and pulling you, moulding you, into what they wanted you to become.

So, yes, maybe walking the same route every day to get home wasn't ideal. But neither was the sight you had to witness as you walked across the parking lot in front of your house. The car parked in it. The only car.

In it was him. Your neighbour. That freak. That beautiful fucking freak. A man clambered out, shoving the passenger door open while blood ran from his nose and mouth. His neck marked with ligatures of varying pink and red hues. Pushing past the small crowd forming he briskly stumbled away, the crowd shifting as people left and newcomers joined.

You know you should've kept walking, walking the same damn route, but you didn't. What's that's saying? Curiosity killed the cat. Well, consider yourself the cat.

Making your way over to the edge of the crowd, you stood watching, keeping at least a meter distance so as not to draw attention. His head turned to the window, the side one facing you. His mouth dropped open to reveal a blue stained tongue. Freak. You grimaced. Yet your eyes were unable to remove themselves from the sight in front of you. Your legs were stuck, glued to the cement, your brain ordered them to move, but no movement was made.

Your eyes focused on the scene in front of you, snapping you out of your disassociation, the shuffling of the crowd parting ways. Boys rode off on their bikes, women clutched their bags whispering with one another, and hooker resembling teenagers scoffed sauntering off, losing interest at the dark-haired man in the car.

The very one slumped in the car seat, heavily battered and bloodied as well as unconscious.

You turned to leave, taking two steps before swivelling back on your heels. You stood considering for a few moments the result of what your actions may cause. If the butterfly affect would, in fact, impact what was to happen due to your next decision. Well fuck that, you don't really care about the result of your actions, at least not since you moved here.

Pulling the drivers side door open, you leaned in, tentatively you waved your hand across his face. Was he awake yet? No.

Fuck. Well then. Poking him didn't work either. Grabbing his shoulders, you leaned closer.

"Martin. Martin. Wake up, Martin!"

He grumbled, regaining consciousness, but also the from the pain of his injuries. Pulling him up from the seat, a task proven easier than expected due to his thin build. It suited him. In his own way. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you hauled him the short walk to your house beside his. The height difference made it more a half drag on his part. You spoke in hopes of providing some comfort.

"Nearly there, Martin. Nearly home."

You didn't really like the freak, but you weren't a heartless human. His reptiles had escaped to your garden more times than he'd like to take responsibility for, and so had his toy helicopter. Resulting in more hostile neighbourly conversations between the both of you than you'd have liked, considering the majority of them happened at 2am, when he was normally awake.

Unlocking the front door, you manoeuvred Martin's flopping body onto a kitchen chair, dragging it across the floor with a loud screech that jolted him awake.

"What are you doing?"

"Calm down. I'm just trying to help. Now sit still."

You didn't mind the silence, wetting some paper towels with rubbing alcohol as you gently wiped the blood and grime off his pasty white skin. The kitchen was filled by the low hum of your broken refrigerator and the hisses coming from Martin's mouth with every swipe against his skin. His eyes followed you, throwing away the dirty tissues and packing up the first aid kit, placing it in the cupboard before making your way back to the sink.

Stood across from the seated Martin he looked up, shifting in his seat with a pink hue dusted over his cheeks.

"Guess I should go then."

"Umm yeah, let me see you out."

You both walk to the door in silence until his voice scratches out down the hallway.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen my snake have you...I left the side window open again...you know-uhm the one across from your garden."

"Again! Seriously! How many times have I told you. I don't want to see that creepy snake in my garden. What if it bites me -"

"Hey! He's friendly."

"No, i doubt that. It's probably a freak. Like you!"

He angered at your words harshly shoving you against the hallways narrow walls. There was barely any space for two people to walk, so being pinned left you feeling even more trapped. It was like the temperature had increased ten fold, your eyes widened at the close proximity between the two of you. He breath was hot and heavy against the side of your face, daring you to keep talking, but you knew better, rather content with glaring at him.

His fingers dug past the material of your faux fur coat while yours held tightly on his forearms. The silence seemed to drag on with the two of you looking into each others eyes. But it was more than that, both looking past each others iris, the pupils and the nerves, looking into each others souls.

And then he kissed you. Just like that.

His lips were on yours, and you could taste the distinctive artificial flavoured candy only just overpowered by the cigarette he must've smoked earlier.

It was suffocating and comforting. Yet freeing and ferocious. As if you had finally given into a craving after so long, like you were sinning after years of celibacy.

Your hands grappled at each other clothes, needing to remove the thick confines you were in. Various articles of clothing littered the hallway, creating a breadcrumb trail to your bedroom. His hands dug into your hair, only deepening the kiss once you were straddling his lap on your bed. Oxygen wasn't a necessity in this moment. It was the taste of each other that you both were surviving off of.

Discarding your bra, Martin removed his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. He positioned you on all fours facing away. Cold, long fingers dragged your panties off you, and you were bare to him, no feeling of shame, just need, as your arch deepened. His hand caressed the path of your spine where he lay gentle kisses, kneeling behind you, he played with the softness of your thighs and hips. The silent room was now filled by your whines of pleasure.

His mouth was on you, exploring every part of you, tasting and savouring you like it was his last meal. His tongue traced from your leaking hole down to your clit where his lips suckled more noises from you. He brought two fingers to your cunt, spreading your folds as his tongue moved through the mess of your juices and his spit, only spreading it down your inner thighs. You pressed back against Martin's face, moaning out in pleasure but his hands hooked around your thighs holding you in place while his mouth worked on you.

You were so close. "Fuck yes just like that, I'm gonna fucking come don't stop- don't you dare fucking stop."

Your words only spurred Martin on, his thumb prodded at your hole wetting it with a mix of fluids before unexpectedly moving it to your tighter hole above. The action drawing out even louder noises from you. He smiled at that and you could feel the change of expression against your pussy. "Come for me."

You didn't need asking twice, clenching the bedsheets you whined into them, your cunt gushing around Martin's tongue and drenching the bottom half of his face. Small droplets ran down his chest as you fell flat against the mattress, angling your head to see a smiling Martin.

God, what a freak.

But you thought it with a small smile this time.

One that was covered by Martin's lips once again, his body embraced yours. You tugged at his boxers, and he pulled them off barely separating from you before leaning his head back to groan up at the ceiling. Your hand wrapped tightly around his cock. It fit comfortably in your hand, what lacked in girth was made up by length.

He thrust into your hand, jerking to feel more stimulation from you, which you were sure to provide. You were comfortably laying with his cock in your hand, his hand moving to separate your thighs, leaving you open to him. His hand coming down to explore your pussy while your hand continued working on him. Entering two of his fingers you arched at the movements, your own fingers were not of the same length or thickness. Moaning out, Martin was kneeling beside you, your hand jerking him off as his fingers worked in and out of you, his thumb occasionally rubbing against your clit.

It was art. The type the Greeks would've painted. The type found in the Renaissance era.

Pure pleasure and carnal desire.

You felt your release nearing, but when Martin twitched in your hand, he removed his fingers and moved. You huffed in annoyance about to speak your mind, but his hands grabbed your body, quickly flipping you over, the same way he did to the men in that car.

Pulling your hips up and pushing your back down, you were in the same arched position as before. He breathed heavily, almost hesitant, but the teasing movement of your ass was almost too much for him to bear. Holding his cock he spat onto your cunt as he pushed the leaking tip through your folds, only further adding to the mess of your pussy.

The tightness wrapped around his cock, almost pushing him out, but the further he entered, the more your cunt sucked him in.

The two of you made noises that bounced off the walls and were certainly heard from outside your window, neither you could give less of a fuck though. His hand clutched your hair while the other guided your hips back against him with each thrust. There was nothing gentle about his movements but that only made you crave more, the feeling of his cock entering you roughly with each movement had you releasing more liquid along the length of him. It collected around the base of his cock making his movements pass easier.

He hauled you up by your hair, his front pressed against your back, his lips against your ear, licking and nipping at the soft flesh. Bringing your hands up to his head, you pulled him into a kiss. Your fingers ran through his slightly greasy hair, the black soft locks tightly wrapped around your fingers while his tongue explored your mouth.

The change of position only prompted his dick to reach even deeper inside of you. Your moans increased while his hands moved around your body, first around your throat, then down to your tits where he roughly grabbed at them and pulled at your nipples, finally coming down to your clit where his fingers rubbed harshly, spreading more of your wetness around.

That was your breaking point. Your hands reached for anything to hold onto, which was Martin's forearm. Your sharp nails dug harshly into his skin, marking it with red crescent shapes, and his dick pummeled harder into you. The both of you were nearing release. Whispering into your ear, he urged you,

"Come for me. Come around my cock, wanna feel you fuckin' tighten your pussy 'round me."

And so you did.

With a few more thrusts into you, he bottomed out as you threw your head back, moaning Martians name. You doubt he would realise with how much noise it was said with.

But he did. He relished in it.

He'd go so far to believe its what made him cum as quick as he did after you. Still deep in you his cock released his cum, with near animalistic groans and arms that embraced you tightly, willing to never let go.

The thick liquid collected inside you and as his now soft dick was pulled out you could feel it drip out between your thighs, his face nuzzled into the side of your neck as the two of your softly caught your breath, relishinng in the sex of pent up tension. The sheets now soiled by your choices. The result of angry words said in the flurry of an argument.

The consequence of fucking your freak neighbour.

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

Full version

[authorhjk1]

Welcome party

Kang Seulgi X Bae Irene X Male Reader

Stop it already."

You chuckle, making your co-worker's thighs quiver. Your warm breath makes her squirm in her seat.

"I didn't have breakfast."

"But-"

Her voice is interrupted by a deep moan. Your tongue flicks against her clit, making it difficult for her to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Why can't you eat breakfast like a normal person?"

A long lick along her folds makes her pussy lips glisten with spit and her arousal.

"I'm eating right now."

You dive back into your first meal of the day.

"You're supposed to eat food. Not pussy."

Her thighs press against your head as you suck on her clit. It seems she likes it more than she can admit.

When the two of you joined the company together, four years ago, you both had this sexual tension. It only took you a couple of weeks, before the two of you started to fuck everywhere. The bathroom, on your desk after everyone was gone, on her desk, on your boss's desk, even on set.

But, who could blame you?

With a woman like this?

How could you not?

Well, it all slowly came to a hold about a year ago. The two of you weren't able to see each other often, since you were positioned in different departments. And the minor inconvenience that she had a boyfriend.

But as soon as she broke up with him, she was all over you again. You talked about the good old times. One thing let to another...

And here you are. Kneeling under Bae Irene's desk, devouring her pussy like it's your last day on earth.

"The boss is gonna be here soon."

You don't answer, digging your fingers into the soft skin of her thighs.

The two of you recently started working together, which means you are sitting in the same office. True to the older days, you both came in way too early.

Which exposes the fact that Irene is currently putting up an act. You know that she would never miss out on an opportunity like this.

"So sweet."

You mumble between licks, making Irene cover her mouth with one hand. No one else is here, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Have you always been this good?"

"I've had years of practice, remember?"

All the things you learned about her body seem like muscle memory to you. It has only been two weeks since the two of you got back at it again. And yet, Irene told you that you had sex more often than she had during the whole year, while she was in a relationship.

"That naughty tongue of yours... Fuck!"

Despite being older, Irene loves how you take care of her like this. Her pussy is dripping wet by now, the chair slowly starting to get stained.

"10 more minutes. She is gonna be here by-oh god!"

You interrupt her again. While your hands knead her full thighs, you suck on her clit, letting your tongue flick against it occasionally.

"I don't take that long."

Your cocky response makes Irene grin. She can't see you, but she reaches for your head, pushing your face further into her pussy.

And before your boss comes in, Irene's body freezes in her chair. As if someone pressed the pause button. You can't see her face, but you know her eyes and mouth are wide open. A silent moan leaving her mouth, her back as straight as it can be.

A moment later, she crashes down. Falling into the backrest, her legs quiver and shake.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

With one last sigh, her body calms itself. You have one last lick, making her flinch, before you wipe her juices off your face.

Why would you eat pancakes or bread for breakfast, if you can just feast on this pussy?

"What do you think?"

You sit across the older woman's desk, nodding at her question.

"I think it would be a good idea."

"Of course you do."

You chuckle, while leaning back into the chair.

Because you are working for a small company, your boss is everyone's boss. Around a hundred people are currently part of the production company "Seongwan designs".

You and Irene have been there from the beginning. Naturally, the two of you have the highest positions, after your CEO Miss Kim.

"Are you almost done with editing by now?"

You smile.

"Yeah. It's gonna be a good MV."

Seongwan designs is offering something that not many companies would. Producing music videos for entertainment agencies. It was a risky move at first, but now, you have a lot of projects. Even from the big three.

"I haven't heard the song yet, I'm too busy. Is it good?"

"It's Twice. How can it not be good?"

Miss Kim nods.

"Of course."

She reaches for three slim portfolios.

"These are our new employees. I know you have a lot on your hands. But so do Irene and I. Would you mind?"

"No problem, boss. I will show them around."

"Great. Irene is currently on set?"

"Yes."

"What's her theme for Itzy's new comeback? She hasn't reported it to me, yet."

"It's Christmas themed."

You and Irene have a lot of liberties, but Miss Kim occasionally wants to check in on you. It's her company after all.

You lose your train of thought as you stare at her. You always thought that there is no one who could rival Irene's beauty. And yet...

After pulling yourself together, you introduce yourself, before the three new employees do the same.

Your eyes are glued to her face, when it's finally her turn.

"I'm Kang Seulgi. I will do my best. Please take care of me."

She bows respectfully.

You already catch the man, who just introduced himself, staring at her.

Since you and Irene are not in any kind of relationship, you imagine yourself having some fun with Seulgi after this tour.

The way she looks is incredible. Her long black hair has blue highlights in it, making her look a little more fierce. Her smile makes her look adorable. But her stare? Fuck. She almost looks evil.

Her white crop top is exposing her beautiful midriff and her small waist. Her chest looks just as good.

Her shorts are barely long enough. Her legs are covered by a pair of fishnets and her big, black boots.

The imprint on her shirt and the bear on her waist make her look cute. But the fishnets, shorts and boots make her look dangerous.

The combination is too much for you.

"And this is where we usually eat lunch." You end the tour by showing them the cantina. It's a small one, because a lot of the crew are working on different sets and locations. It's never completely full and looks kinda cozy.

"What a coincidence."

You check your watch.

"It's lunch time."

You chuckle, while pointing behind you.

"Help yourself."

Seulgi smiled at your joke, which makes your heart skip a beat. If you could just have her for lunch...

You shake your head as you turn around to follow them.

While you wait in line, you get a call from Irene.

"Grabbing lunch?"

"Yeah."

"What's on the menu?"

"Tteokbokki."

"Oh, damn. Can you save me some?"

"Sure. See you."

You hang up as it's your time to order. Having worked with her for four years, you know exactly what side dishes she likes to eat.

"Two servings please."

Once you got the food, you blindly follow the one in front of you. Seulgi. It wasn't even intentional. And yet you find yourself sitting next to her, at the table with the two new guys. You catch both of their uneasy eyes.

"Relax, guys. While we are in this room, I'm not your boss. Eat up."

You watch them reaching for their chopsticks.

"For how long have you been here, sir?"

You glance at Seulgi, before reaching for your own.

"Four years. Right from the beginning."

"Wow. You must know a lot about producing."

"There is always more to learn."

You are a very humble person, despite being the second most important person in the company. Well, if you don't count Irene.

Speaking of the devil, you see her entering the cantina. You weren't able to "catch up" with her this morning. You regret it even more, when you see what she is wearing.

If you would have declined to show the new ones around yesterday, you would know what Irene is wearing underneath that dress of hers. But you are sure you're going to find out soon enough.

"Pabo."

"Idiot."

You great each other as usual, before she takes one of the plates off your tray. The food does look delicious and you can't wait. You were nice enough to wait for her.

"How is it going with Itzy?"

Despite looking at Irene, you can almost feel Seulgi's eyes widen. You've gotten to know her better over the last hours. She seems to be a pretty gentle and curious person.

"We are managing."

"That sounds like a delay."

You wait for Irene to finish chewing on the rice cake in her mouth.

"No shit, Sherlock. We had to do the group dance scene like a thousand times."

You are used to her bickering, after all, you are not the one she is mad at.

"But you got it now?"

"Yeah. But we are behind on schedule."

It's silent for a moment as you and Irene eat your food.

"M-May I ask a question?"

You turn to Seulgi.

"Sure. What is it?"

Your reassuring smile gives her confidence.

"Why is it so bad, if you can't keep the schedule? It's not your fault, right? Shouldn't their company deal with it?"

"You are way to naive."

Irene dismisses her by waving her hand, before reaching for the glass of water in front of her. You decide to explain further.

"You might think so, Seulgi. But their company doesn't. They usually have a release date set already. And if we don't meet their expectations, it's our fault. It doesn't matter, if their idols mess up."

"I see."

Seulgi nods, before returning to her food.

You give Irene a quiet glare, to not let her frustration out on the new employees.

The older woman glares back at you.

"Stop looking and eat."

You roll your eyes.

Irene quickly uses her chopsticks to steal your boiled egg.

"Hey."

She grins at you, before putting it into her mouth.

"Please. You can have mine, sir."

You see Seulgi's egg in between her chopsticks.

"It's alright, Seulgi. Thank you though."

"Please, I insist."

You nod awkwardly, letting her put her egg into your bowl.

If you would've looked up, you would have seen Irene's disapproving glare.

Yes, the two of you aren't in a relationship. But she can't help but feel weird by the way Seulgi treats you. She is the one you are supposed to fuck after all.

Making sure you know that as well, Irene moves her foot underneath the table.

You look at her as you feel her shoe rub against your crotch.

"I want you so bad right now."

Irene captures your lips with hers.

"You are some needy slut, you know that?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

The two of you stumble into the bathroom.

Since it's right next to your office, you both work in one room, there aren't many people who use it. Irene's reputation of being a little cold keeps them away. Which makes the bathroom a great place for eating your dessert.

Irene's warm lips taste like the Tteokbokki she just ate. Her tongue explores your mouth, searching for your own.

You feel her hand undoing your belt as your right one sneaks around her waist.

"Praise me."

She mumbles into your mouth as your pants drop to the floor.

"You're so fucking hot."

You say between breaths, before kissing her again.

"I love how small your waist is."

Emphasizing your point, you place your second hand on it as well.

"More."

Irene sighs as she takes off your boxers.

"Your pussy is the tightest I've ever had."

You make her moan by kissing her neck.

"Your skin is soft and tasty."

You just say whatever comes to mind.

Irene is stroking your cock, while the two of you keep making out.

"I love how your thighs wrap around my head, when I eat you out."

Irene moans, remembering yesterdays morning.

"Tell me how good I suck your cock."

She bites your lip as she strokes your cock, making it hard.

"I think you need to show me first."

Irene pulls away, a naughty grin on her face.

She drops to her knees, your cock right in front of her.

"How can I resist?"

She licks your shaft, closing her eyes.

"That cock of yours."

She sighs, almost to herself. You could think she starved for days by the way she starts to give you head.

Her lips wrap tightly around your tip, before Irene bobs her head up and down. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your cock, playing with your tip, whenever she pulls away.

"You are amazing."

You feel her smile around your cock.

Irene let's her lips glide along the length of your shaft a couple times more.

"This tastes so good."

She kisses around your tip, before licking up your precum.

"I might get addicted."

True to her words, her blowjob increases in pace once more.

Irene places her hands on your thighs, ready to face fuck herself onto your cock. You reach out to put her hair behind her ears.

Gag after gag escapes her mouth as Irene starts to go up and down your shaft with an incredible pace. You don't know why she is so aggressive today, but you love it.

It only takes a short amount of time for her mouth to make you weak. You weren't lying when you told her she is amazing. She really is good at this.

You can't believe her makeup is still intact as she uses her mouth to pleasure you. Irene becomes sloppier by the second. Some of her spit is already staining the tiles she is kneeling on.

"Fuck. You are so good at giving head."

You sigh as Irene just won't stop devouring your cock.

"I-I want to fuck you."

Her work makes you stutter already. But only those words can make her stop.

You haven't fucked her since yesterday. That's a long time already. You finally want to feel her pussy again.

Irene let's your spit covered cock fall out of her mouth.

"Make me scream."

That's all she says before you pull her up.

For the hundredths time since you two work together, you bend Irene over the sink. That position alone makes her short dress ride high enough to expose her cheeks.

"How could you wear something like this? People could think this is actually see through."

You reach underneath her dress to knead her right cheek.

"Don't talk. Just give it to me."

You reach for her center, ready to slide her underwear down her creamy legs, but you instead touch her naked pussy.

"You really are a slut."

Irene rises her head to look at you through the mirror.

"I'm not. You are the only guy I fuck."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't have anything exclusive going on and you expected Irene to be able to fuck anyone she wants.

"I only dress like this so you can give me a good pounding whenever I need one."

You grin, knowing what she means. You see Irene's naked body pretty much everyday. There is nothing the two of you haven't done with each other yet.

With your wet dick in your hand, you push inside Irene's tight snatch. Her own saliva is lubricating your cock enough for now.

"Oh gosh. This never gets old."

She sighs as you push further. Your cock slowly fills up her pussy. It's unbelievable how tight Irene is. For a moment, you wonder if your new co-worker is just as tight...

Irene's moan brings you back to reality, when you bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck, that's it."

She sighs in disappointment.

"I wish we had more time, but I only have a couple of minutes."

She locks eyes with you through the mirror.

"Fuck the stress out of me. Hurry up."

You gladly start to fulfill her request.

Deep and hard thrusts push Irene's hips into the sink. Her hands hold onto the edges, her knuckles slowly start to turn white.

"Yes!"

She hisses through her teeth, enjoying how deep you are inside of her.

As you continue to fuck her, you start to increase your pace. As you fuck the stress out of her, Irene's hair starts to become a mess in her face. Her volume increases. The sound of your hips meeting her cheeks echo through the bathroom.

"Fuck me harder!"

Her tight pussy makes it difficult to last very long. You feel her flexing her muscles, trying to make you cum as fast as possible.

Your hands glide from her waist towards her shoulders. After brushing her hair away, you take hold of them, using your grip to pull Irene's full body against you.

"Oh gosh!"

Irene loses her grip on the sink, reaching behind her to hold onto both of your arms. Taking a step forward, you are almost lying her onto the sink, her face mere inches away from the mirror.

You see mist form on the glass surface as moan after moan escapes her mouth. Keeping your pace, you feel her getting closer.

You know all the signs by now. The way she furrows her eyebrows, the way she bites her lip, the way her moans sound. They all tell you that Irene can't keep this up for much longer.

"Fuck!"

Her hair keeps swinging wildly in front of her face as you take her from behind. How often did the two of you do this? Right here? Probably at least five times in the last two weeks.

"Make me cum! Hurry up!"

You almost have to chuckle. How is she still able to worry about her schedule? Pressing your lips together, you use more force to thrust into her.

By now, Irene's head shakes uncontrollably with ever push and pull.

"Fuck!"

If she is still able to scream, you aren't fucking her hard enough.

It only takes a couple more of your powerful thrusts, until you can finally convince her body to climax.

As always, Irene seems to be frozen. Her mouth hangs open, her glassy eyes stare at you through the mirror.

A moment later, her knees buckle, a deep moan escapes her lips, and Irene almost falls to the ground.

You keep her standing, letting her stay in this position, bend over the sink.

"I'm close, too."

She smiles to herself, slowly getting on her knees.

You watch as she starts to take your shaft into her mouth again. Her mouth replaces her pussy, sucking her own juices off your cock.

"Fuck, Irene."

You groan, feeling your orgasm approaching. The combination of her pussy and mouth is something no one can resist. Not even you. Eve though this is almost an everyday occurrence.

You cup Irene's right cheek with your hand as she looks up at you. She does look a little more relaxed, although you expect her to call you tonight. The rest of her day is going to be stressful as well.

The thought of fucking her again and the way Irene's tongue swirls around your tip, finally makes you cum.

"You are so good at that."

You are barely able to mumble those words, before you unload inside her mouth.

Irene hums in satisfaction, waiting for you to finish. Once your eyes are focused again, you watch her gulp down your cum.

"You are turning me into an addict, you know?"

You laugh as you help her up.

"Cum is good for your health. That's a scientific fact."

Irene chuckles as you pull your pants back up.

"I call you."

With that, your co-worker is gone.

You scratch your head as you go over the documents and scripts. Something is missing. Where did you put the script for the next dance video? You sigh in frustration, sometimes you hate that you can be messy. You definitely put it on your desk earlier. Right?

You get up, looking around the office. Or is it in of the shelves?

You start to go through them, looking for Twice's dance video script. It's supposed to be released together with the MV. The shooting for the music video is done, but you have to start with filming the dance video. The girls are coming over tomorrow.

Or maybe one of the stylists took it to prepare their outfits? You hate it, when people just take your stuff.

"Bloody hell."

You grumble as you walk out of your office.

Reaching the floor beneath yours, you look around the big room. Around thirty desks. Half of them are occupied, all of them have at least one shelf standing behind them. You groan internally. You still have to finish editing.

As your eyes wander through the room, they get caught up on the person who is sitting a few meters away. Maybe she can help you find it.

You asked Seulgi to go through some old footage after lunch, hoping she could gather some useful information for future projects and maybe even learn something.

"Seulgi."

You call her, while walking towards her desk.

Her eyes seem to be glued to the screen, her complete being indifferent to everything that's going on around her. Including you.

"Seulgi?"

You are only a few steps away. You see that she has taken some notes on a piece of paper, but the pen is lying on the desk now. She is biting her nail. It looks like she is watching something way too interesting.

"Kang Seulgi."

She almost falls out of her chair, when you call her name. Standing right beside her, you see how her cheeks flush red.

A look at her monitor makes you swallow hard. She must have taken the wrong video tape out of the material room. Miss Kim keeps the old tapes on the right side. And the security footage on the left. Seulgi seems to have picked up the wrong kind of video.

A video of you to be exact. Well, you aren't the only one in it. The other person is actually sitting on your lap. You see yourself in your own chair, your pants around your ankles.

No other than Bae Irene is riding your cock like crazy, her hips slamming down onto you.

You curse Miss Kim for unnecessarily keeping all of the old security footage.

You look at Seulgi. Her eyes are wide open in shock. Her innocent face is red with either shame or arousal. You are not sure yet.

Glancing at the monitor again, you see the time stamp. Seulgi must have watched this for at least half an hour by now.

"Come."

You turn the video and monitor off, before walking away. Not turning around, you hear Seulgi's hurried footsteps. The two of you pass by the cantina, follow two different hallways, until you find yourself in the underground parking lot.

Finally turning around, you see Seulgi standing there. Her fingers are intertwined in front of her as she looks down, a coy look on her face.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I must have picked the wrong one."

"And you only figured this out thirty minutes in?"

"N-No. I-"

"Did you like watching it?"

You see Seulgi bite her lip, but she shakes her head.

"I was just about to turn it off, sir."

You take a step closer. Her vanilla sent was covered by the smell of food during lunch, but you can now freely enjoy her smell.

"You only watched, right?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Then what is that?"

You point at the center of Seulgi's shorts.

She gasps, before covering it with both hands, without even looking down.

There is nothing there. But it confirms your assumption. If Seulgi did more than just watch...

"I spilled some water earlier. It was a mistake."

Seulgi bows.

"It's alright."

You put your hands in the pockets of your pants, which seems to relax her a little. Looking around, you confirm that there aren't any cameras around.

"Take them off."

"What?"

Seulgi looks at you. Completely bamboozled.

"Take off your shorts."

"But-"

Your eyes meet and Seulgi can't do anything but nod.

You watch as she starts to undo her belt, before opening the buttons. She looks down, trying to avoid eye contact.

Her waist looks even smaller as Seulgi pulls down her shorts. You see that her black panties are darker in the front.

"What do you think about me, fucking Irene?"

As you ask her, you let a finger slide behind her waistband.

Seulgi's breath hitches. She looks down at what you are doing, until she finally answers.

"I-I liked it."

"What did you like?"

Your finger glides along the smooth skin right above her snatch.

"I liked h-how often you made her cum."

Your finger reaches her clit, when she says the last word.

"Are you prepared to cum right here?"

Seulgi opens her mouth to protest, but you circle around her clit. A moan comes out instead, which makes her cover her mouth immediately.

"Don't be shy. No one is here."

You take her hand off her mouth with your own.

"I've seen how you looked at me today. I'm not surprised."

Seulgi looks away, unable to admit that she was actually checking you out.

"I've meet more than enough girls like you."

Your hand moves a little lower, your finger slowly parting her lips. You feel Seulgi's wetness slowly coating your finger.

"You all think it's fun to seduce your boss, until he makes you his sex toy."

You slip your finger inside her as you say the last word.

Seulgi's wide open eyes look up at you. Her cheeks are still red, now definitely because of arousal.

"Then, you all want to stop. Because you think so highly of yourself."

You move your finger slowly. In and out.

Her body is reacting to your touch. Your other hand is now reaching for her top, your palm slightly presses against her right chest.

"You think, you could have any man you want, don't you?"

Seulgi is unable to speak. She never expected you to dominate her like this. She feels dirty, but good. Your finger makes her rub her thighs together.

"Do you want the truth?"

You wait a couple of moments, your finger moving in and out, until Seulgi nods.

"A woman like you is only good for one thing. Her body."

You inch closer, kissing her neck. Your warm breath gives her goosebumps. She doesn't step back, her feet feel like they are glued to the ground.

"You can't have any man you want. You can only have one man. One man, whom you belong to."

Irene wasn't the first woman you slept with, so you have enough experience to judge Seulgi's character. Although she acted modest, her outfit was definitely not. She visibly liked the attention from your co-workers. And yet, she gave you her egg during lunch. She couldn't keep her eyes off you.

You expected her to be innocent on the outside, while she is dirty and slutty on the inside. Your judgment finally turns out to be true.

Seulgi still doesn't talk back to you. She only moans quietly, her thighs rubbing against each other.

"That means, I can use you however I see fit."

You knead her breasts over her top, making Seulgi gasp.

"When, where and how."

To emphasize your point, you insert a second finger into her needy cunt.

"Do we understand each other?"

Seulgi sighs heavily as she feels both of your fingers move inside of her.

You are not very dominant with Irene, partially because she is quite dominant herself. But you like to be in charge. Just like this. Since you can't really do that with Irene, Seulgi will have to suffice.

"Answer me."

She finally nods. The young woman finally admits to her slutty side. She knows that this is how it should be.

"I will count down from ten now."

You start increasing your pace, after curling your fingers upwards inside of her.

"If you cum too early or too late, there are gonna be consequences."

You don't even have to ask if she understood anymore. Seulgi is already nodding, pressing her lips together.

"10"

Seulgi holds onto your arm, trying to stand upright.

"9"

Your other hand is still playing with her chest above her top, switching from left to right.

"8"

A cute whimper escapes Seulgi's mouth.

"7"

Your move your fingers inside of her, feeling how wet she is becoming.

"6"

Seulgi is moaning freely by now. She has stopped caring, only enjoying the pleasure that radiates from her center.

"5"

Her hips buck forward, her body starting to get out of control.

"4"

Seulgi is trying her best to make herself cum by thinking about what she watched. She wishes she could be the one, bouncing in your lap.

"3"

She imagines how big your cock must be, the camera didn't have a good angle. Irene was always blocking the view.

"2"

Seulgi feels her body heating up, her cheeks are flushed red. Her eyes are closed as she whimpers loudly.

"1"

She feels how you cup her breasts as you finger her. Both sensations make her stumble towards the edge.

"Cum."

"Oh goooood!"

Seulgi moans loudly as she shakes, her pussy contracting around your fingers.

Her orgasm is quite different from Irene's. While the older woman feezes, Seulgi moans and shakes, cuming wildly on your fingers.

"Holy-"

You shut her up by kissing her, finally tasting those lips that look so inviting.

Seulgi is barely able to react as her body moves on its own.

You lick your fingers as if you just ate something sticky. Seulgi's pussy juices definitely are delicious.

Entering your office, you see Irene sitting in her chair.

"Back already?"

She turns around.

"Yeah. Where were you? One of the stylists came by to return your script. It's on your desk."

Your mood is too good to be annoyed that someone took your stuff without asking.

"Tanks."

You walk past her to get to your own chair.

"Am I actually going to see you tonight, or are you gonna ditch me again?"

You raise and eyebrow at Irene's question.

"I know you are an workaholic. Especially while editing."

You roll your eyes.

"Don't worry, I will be there tonight."

Irene nods.

She suddenly stands up to look at you above her monitor.

"Or are you getting tired of me?"

The sudden change in her voice makes you shake your head. As if Irene is suddenly sad.

"Of course I'm not. How could I grow tired of a woman like you?"

Irene gives you a weak smile.

"Well, I'm not getting any younger."

You chuckle.

"Neither do I. But you are still one of the hottest women I've ever seen."

She looks around the room, clearly not knowing how to respond.

"Well, thank you."

You see her fidgeting with a piece of paper.

"Is it about what we are doing then? Has the sex with me become too boring?"

You shake your head.

"Maybe we should switch it up a little."

You lean back in your chair, raising an eyebrow.

"How?"

Irene shrugs her shoulders.

"What haven't we done so far?"

You think about it for a while.

"I think we are just missing something new."

You look up, when you hear Irene break the silence.

"You use all my holes on a regular basis. I make you cum, you make me cum. We tried domination and everything."

You remember how it felt, being tied up to the chair in her apartment. Irene didn't hold back that night. She did everything she wanted with you, without you being able to resist.

"We did it in public, here, and on set."

She continues on with her list.

"We used toys and all. What are we missing?"

"Wy don't you google it?"

You ask jokingly.

To your surprise, Irene sits back down.

"Good idea."

You chuckle. You've known her for four years and she keeps surprising you.

"I did some research."

You look down at Irene. Her head is resting on your naked chest. You play with her hair as the two of your recover from your recent activities.

"And?"

Irene shuffles around a little, putting one of her legs over yours. She can feel the cream pie you left in her ass, slowly oozing out. Her ass is still sore, which makes it a little uncomfortable.

"There is some stuff we didn't try yet."

"I'm listening."

"We never did something with like... other people, you know?"

"Other people?"

You wonder if you would be able to share Irene. Of course she is beautiful enough for two guys. But you don't know how you would feel, fucking her together with someone else. It already felt weird, knowing that she slept with her boyfriend, while they were together.

"You mean, you want two guys to fuck you?"

You feel Irene's hand glide over your abs as she paints lazy circles with her fingers.

"Not necessarily. Although it could be nice."

It dawns on you a moment later.

"Another woman?"

Irene hits you.

"Don't sound too excited."

You chuckle, patting her head.

"Are you sure?"

Irene nods.

"Why not? It's not like I'm not gonna get anything out of it."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

You wait for Irene to think about it.

"A certain co-worker comes to mind."

You feel your cock harden, thinking about Seulgi.

"Who?"

You pretend to be oblivious.

"Seulgi. The one who keeps drooling while looking at you."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not."

She raises her head and turns it towards you.

"I heard her, when I left work. She was in the bathroom downstairs, getting herself off by thinking about you."

You laugh.

"I'm serious. I didn't even have to go inside. I was able to hear her moan your name as I walked by."

"Can't blame her."

Irene sighs in annoyance.

"Don't think too highly of yourself."

You lie your hand back on her head, making Irene lie down on your chest again.

"So, how do you want to approach her? Just ask?"

She shakes her head.

"I think it's not that easy."

You think about how you fingered Seulgi in the parking lot. It kinda was.

"We should come up with a good strategy."

The two of you think about it for a while.

Two days later

You stop your car, taking a look at the cozy hotel. It has old-fashioned Korean style.

After getting out and walking closer, you see Irene coming out from the front door.

"You are late."

"Work."

You simply reply, before the two of you walk towards the entrance.

"Is Seulgi already here?"

"Yeah."

The two of you told Seulgi that the whole company is gonna throw a welcome party for the new co-workers. Of course, Seulgi wanted to come and even asked if you would be there as well.

You are now seeing her walking towards the two of you.

"Hi, sir."

"Hello, Seulgi."

You greet her.

The two of them wear big boots, which doesn't get past you unnoticed.

"Look at that dress of hers."

Irene whispers as Seulgi walks in front of you two.

"I bet she is hoping she is gonna get lucky tonight."

"Let's make sure we even surpass her expectations."

"It seems like they are all running late."

Irene says as the three of you "wait" for the others.

You are all sitting in a small room around the table on the ground. Seulgi is sitting next to you, while Irene sits across from you.

You like how she is dressed. She left her white fur coat behind and is now wearing a white top, that shows off her shoulders. Her brown skirt is partially see through. The tie at the front is practically begging you to pull on it. The combination of the skirt and her black, knee high boots makes her legs look longer than usual.

Seulgi lost her down jacket as well. She is definitely wearing this blue, skin tight dress on purpose. Because she is sitting cross-legged, the hem has moved up her thighs. You only have to glance down to get a glimpse at her white panties.

You place a hand on Seulgi's naked thigh. She shivers at your touch, her panties slowly becoming damp. Your hand slowly moves up and down her thigh, occasionally moving the hem of her dress up even further.

Irene starts a conversation with Seulgi. The latter is unable to respond properly.

"Are you alright?"

Irene "notices" that Seulgi is acting a little awkward.

"I-I'm fine."

She manages to say, closing her mouth quickly, before a moan escapes.

The two continue their conversation, while you begin to rub Seulgi's pussy through her panties. They slowly start to become transparent due to her juices.

Irene pretends to be oblivious to Seulgi's moans. The younger woman isn't able to keep quiet anymore.

After you and Irene decided to make Seulgi the lucky girl who gets to sleep with the two of you, you came up with a plan on how to seduce her.

"If you go to the bathroom now and record a video of you fingering yourself, I'm gonna fuck you tonight."

You stop moving your hand as you speak through your teeth, making Seulgi think that Irene is still in the dark.

Seulgi sighs at the lack of your touch, before hurriedly excusing herself.

The two of you watch your new co-worker rush to the bathroom.

"I wanna see how she looks when she cums."

You chuckle at Irene's words.

Pulling out your phone, you see that Seulgi is video calling you. You pick up and position the phone, so that you and Irene can watch, without Seulgi knowing.

You hear her moan and mewl. She has already gotten rid of her panties and is now sitting on the closed lit of a toilet.

Her fingers move in and out of her pussy, making her juices drip down her thighs.

"What do you think about making her beg for it?"

"What do you mean?"

The two of you watch Seulgi.

"We planned on you fucking her and me coming in. Why don't we switch that up?"

"Sure. When do you want to-"

"I don't want to do it upstairs."

Irene gives you a knowing look as you feel her hand rest on your crotch.

You place your phone on the table as you see Irene crawl towards you. She starts to unbutton your pants to the sounds of Seulgi fingering herself in the bathroom.

Her cute moans seem to turn on Irene just as much as they turn you on. The older woman's head is already resting above your cock. She can be quite quick to get rid off your pants, when she wants to.

Her lips feel as good as they always do as she wraps them around your tip. You caress her naked shoulders, feeling the smoothness of her skin.

Judging by the volume of Seulgi's moans, you can confidently say that she is close to orgasm. You hear her saying your name once in a while. It makes you push Irene's head further down. She hums, acknowledging your need for more pleasure.

While you enjoy Irene's blowjob, you hear Seulgi finally reaching her orgasm. With a shriek, she cums all over her fingers, almost dropping her phone. Her legs quiver and her chest is moving up and down at a very quick pace.

It almost has the same rhythm as Irene's head as she keeps sucking you off.

"Seulgi is done."

You inform Irene, waiting for her decision on what to do next.

She straddles your lap, slightly lifting her skirt in the process. She shows off her lack of underwear, grinning proudly.

"Fuck me."

She slowly lowers herself onto your cock.

You groan as you penetrate her pussy, gliding inside her entrance.

You fucked Irene in the bathroom just this morning. And yet, here you are again, feeling her weight on your lap as she sinks down to take in all of your cock.

You start to pepper her naked shoulders with kisses as Irene slowly begins to ride you. It's more sensual than usual. Instead of bouncing up and down, she circles her hips on top of you.

When Seulgi slides the door open, her eyeballs almost fall out of their sockets. She can't believe what she is seeing, her mouth wide open.

You are still sitting next to the table, your back now turned towards her. Irene is sitting in your lap, grinding against you, while rotating her hips. Seulgi sees that your pants are gone.

"Hello, there."

Irene greets her as if she just came in for work in the morning.

"W-What-"

Seulgi is unable to process what is going on.

Irene wants to say something, but your cock grazes her g-spot in that moment. A moan comes out of her opened lips.

Seulgi is still standing in place. She is too shocked to stay or to leave. She doesn't know what she is supposed to do. The two of you look so fucking hot. But you are still her boss...

"You want his dick so bad, don't you?"

Irene starts to speak up, her tone dripping with lust.

"You can't though. This is all mine."

She locks eyes with Seulgi, while grabbing a fistful of your hair. She makes you lick her shoulders, while she keeps moving on top of you. You are more than happy to taste that porcelain like skin of hers.

Seulgi mumbles inaudible words.

"W-What? H-How?"

"Tell me how bad you want him to rail you. Maybe I will give you a chance."

Seulgi is still standing in the door, completely bamboozled.

What is she supposed to do?

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight."

You can't help but groan. You don't even do it to lure Seulgi in. It's just a fact.

"Your cock is just so big. It splits me open."

Irene moans. You don't know if she is exaggerating, but you think she told you this a couple of times already.

Seulgi can't help but let her hand slide over her dress. Because it's so tight, she doesn't even need to lift it to rub over her clit.

"You are such a slut, Kang Seulgi."

Irene mocks her as she keeps grinding on your cock.

"Wearing that slutty dress, thinking (y/n) would fuck you."

She let's out an evil laugh.

"You don't get any of his cock, until you beg for it. Like a good little whore."

Seulgi has been thinking about this, since you made her cum two days ago. Is she really this kind of woman? What would her parents say to all this? She only met you two days ago. But her bosses are now asking her to beg. Is this really where she wants to work? Shouldn't she just quit? Isn't this sexual harassment?

But for some reason, her snatch still responds. As if Seulgi's body needs this. She knows it's wrong and yet, she finds herself kneeling on the wooden floor.

"Please, let me have some cock, sir. Please."

Seulgi whines, hoping to convince you quickly.

Maybe this kind of work environment wouldn't be so bad. Getting fucked by her boss on a daily basis? Seulgi can't say no to that.

You turn your head, seeing Seulgi kneel on the floor. Her hands are rubbing her naked thighs. She is obviously desperate, despite just cuming in the bathroom. She is hesitant to touch herself, not sure if Irene would scold her for it.

Irene let's out another moan, slowly starting to go up and down on your cock instead of just grinding her hips.

"I knew you are slut."

She takes your glass and spills the contents onto the wooden surface of the table.

"Clean that up. Maybe you are lucky."

Her empty promises make Seulgi hesitate. Her boss is making her clean up the table, just so she can sleep with you?

"Use your tongue, cutie."

For a moment, Seulgi is disgusted. She would never clean the table with her tongue. But the way Irene calls her cutie, makes Seulgi feel something different. Similar to what she feels when you order her around, but not quite the same.

She finally crawls forward, kneeling right behind you. Irene takes her hand off your shoulder, holding Seulgi's chin in her hand.

"You would do anything for you boss's cock, wouldn't you?"

A glance at your face makes Seulgi nod. If she could be the one in your lap...

Irene pushes her head downwards. Seulgi sticks out her tongue, feeling the numbing taste of the alcohol. Why do you have to drink whiskey? Seulgi hates it's taste. And yet, it makes you even more attractive in her eyes.

She now closes them, trying her hardest not to flinch as she laps up the brown liquid.

At the same time, Irene keeps riding your cock. She is visibly turned on by ordering Seulgi around. Her pussy feels wetter than usual. And tighter. The view of her naked shoulders make her look extremely sexy. You can sometimes see a hint of her pussy, sliding down the length of your cock, through her skirt.

Looking to the side, you have to gulp as you see Seulgi, almost bend over the table. Her ass looks so good in that dress. The white lace hem is slowly riding up her thighs and you are able to see a glimpse of her soaked panties. They are practically see through by now.

The view is almost too much for you. Adding Irene's constant riding to it, slowly starts to overwhelm you.

You can't help but place a hand on Seulgi's ass. You knead her cheeks through the blue fabric, enjoying their fullness. She moans into the table as she is about to finish cleaning.

"Spank the shit out of her."

Irene whispers into your ear.

By now, it takes a lot of willpower to raise your hand. Your body urges you on to just get a hold of Irene's hips and make her go faster. It's screams for release, but you manage to hold back.

A loud shriek echoes through the room, when your hand meets Seulgi's right butt cheek. She never expected to be spanked. It's more out of shock than pain, but she shrieks yet again, when you hit her left cheek.

"Take daddy's spanking, baby girl."

Irene moans in Seulgi's direction, before letting her head roll back. It exposes her beautiful throat. You start to kiss that spot, slightly pressing against it.

Without even looking, you give Seulgi another set of spanks. She moans loudly.

"Please more, daddy. Spank me so much, until you are satisfied. Just please, let me have your cock."

You are surprised that Seulgi is calling you daddy, without Irene having to tell her to do so.

Even Seulgi doesn't know what has come over her. The pain in her ass cheeks makes her pussy wet.

"More begging."

You feel Irene slowly coming to an hold. She knows your body we'll enough to not make you trip over the edge. She slowly starts to get off you, her slick pussy leaving your cock drenched with her juices.

"Now that your tongue is warmed up, you can eat my pussy. I will let you have some cock afterwards."

You and Seulgi both notice that Irene left out the word maybe. The younger woman nods eagerly. Is this her final task?

The two of you watch Irene, quickly getting rid off the last two glasses and the small plate of egg rolls. She sits down on the edge of the table, right in front of Seulgi's face.

You scoot back, the room is a little small. Seulgi dives underneath Irene's skirt, aiming her tongue at her pussy. For a while, you are just content with watching.

Irene combs through Seulgi's hair as she eats her out. You hear the noises the younger woman makes and Irene's moans.

Your gaze lands on Seulgi's ass. That dress of hers just looks so good on her.

You can't hold back anymore.

Kneeling down behind Seulgi, you hike up her dress. A little is already enough for you to see her full ass. Sliding her panties to the side, you start to eat her out.

Seulgi's pussy tastes delicious. A little different from Irene, but still delicious.

You make her moan into Irene's cunt, which makes the older woman moan in return.

Their lewd sounds fill the room as you pleasure Seulgi and she pleasures Irene.

After having climaxed just a couple of minutes ago, Seulgi's pussy is still sensitive. You can feel it by the way she keeps grinding against your face. She is desperate and needy.

It takes you little effort to make her orgasm. Years of experience with Irene make it easy for you to know how to eat out Seulgi properly.

"Daddy!"

Seulgi's loud moan is muffled by Irene's pussy as she cums on your face. Her legs shiver and her back starts sagging.

When you finally get back up, your eyes meet Irene's. Without words, you are able to tell her that you can't hold yourself back much longer. She nods in understanding.

"Are you ready to be daddy's office slut, baby?"

Seulgi nods, her face buried inside Irene's snatch.

"Tell me how often you want him to fuck you."

Seulgi lifts her head to look at Irene.

"Everyday, please. I don't care where, or who watches. I just need that cock."

You are surprised at Seulgi's cravings. She has never even seen your cock in real life. Only on the tape from security. How did Irene make her so desperate?

"In the morning, during lunch, after work. I don't care as long as he fucks me, please."

Seulgi turns her head to look at you over her shoulder.

"Please, daddy. I will be an obedient toy for you. Just give me your cock, please."

You align your cock with her dripping wet cunt.

An unbelievably deep, lustful moan leaves Seulgi's mouth. As if she has waited for this for months. She feels your cock spreading her pussy lips apart, penetrating her further and further. You feel even bigger inside of her than she expected. She struggles with your girth, realizing that Irene wasn't exaggerating earlier. You really are tearing her pussy open.

"Daddy."

She whines, wanting you to stop, but wishing you would keep going at the same time.

"Make her take all of your cock at once."

Irene raises her chin to see what's going on behind Seulgi.

You keep pushing deeper, until you finally bottom out inside of Seulgi for the first time. She moans and mewls, trying her best to adjust to your size.

"What are you waiting for?"

Irene eggs you on as she plays with her own pussy, Seulgi unable to keep eating her out.

"She is yours. It doesn't matter if she can take it or not. She has to."

For a moment you hesitate, but a look at Seulgi's ass makes you move. You pull out of her quickly, before slamming yourself back inside.

"Oh god!"

Seulgi almost screams. Irene enjoys Seulgi's wide open eyes as you start to fuck her.

Both of their moans must be audible outside. A lot of people must be complaining already. But you don't care.

Experiencing the tightness of Seulgi's pussy makes you forget the rest of the world. She is so wet and tight, making you feel like you are in heaven.

Your thrusts become quicker and harder, the longer you are inside of her. Seulgi's moans increase in volume, while Irene keeps fingering herself.

"Take that cock, honey."

She mumbles in Seulgi's direction, almost too far gone to further degrade the younger woman.

"Take that cock like the whore you are."

You doubt that Seulgi even heard her, her own moans too loud.

"You're tearing me open, daddy! You're so big, daddy!"

It only took you two days to turn Kang Seulgi into your personal slut. You wonder what the future brings.

You imagine yourself, sitting at your desk, while Seulgi kneels underneath, sucking you off. But one thing is for sure, this is not gonna be your last threesome with Irene and Seulgi.

The older woman's body freezes as she finally reaches her own climax. She didn't expect to cum this hard. But she is now unable to hold herself back, after degrading her new co-worker.

And Seulgi? Seulgi's head is only filled with one thought. How hard you fuck her pussy. She is unable to think about the future. She is even unable to think this over. Her mind is in a state of pure bliss as you take her from behind.

Your hands hold her small waist, pulling her back towards you with every thrust you do.

You see another message pop up on her phone. Seulgi's parents are asking her for the third time now, when she is coming to Christmas dinner tonight. Little do they know, what their cute little daughter is doing now.

In fact, Seulgi is being quite naughty. Even on Christmas. You swipe the notification away, focusing back on recording.

Seulgi is kneeling on her knees in front of you, doing what she seems to love. Sucking you off.

Her red and white Christmas outfit almost got her in trouble at work.

Luckily, you are her boss, which means you took Seulgi into your office giving her a little "talk".

She is now at your place, enjoying your cock, instead of being at her parent's for dinner. You are sitting in one of your comfortable chairs, recording Seulgi's every move. Your Christmas tree in the background really matches Seulgi's outfit.

You tear your eyes off the display, when you hear Irene coming in. She changed into a similar outfit after coming here.

The older woman leans down to capture your lips with hers.

This might become the best Christmas of your life.

Pushing Seulgi aside, Irene straddles you. The younger girl knows better than to complain. She got her fair share of your cock earlier at work. Celebrating the special day, you decided on taking Seulgi's ass, while she was bend over Irene's desk.

The latter has inserted your cock into her pussy and is now riding you. It is definitely her favourite position. It gives her more control over the situation and degrades Seulgi even more. Because Seulgi isn't allowed to ride your cock. She is only here to be used.

You hand her her own phone after finishing the recording, focusing on Irene on your cock. Seulgi gets wet at the fact that she now has something this sexy, but dangerous on her phone.

She watches Irene bouncing in your lap, letting her hand rub her pussy, waiting for her turn to feel your cock.

You spend the rest of the day in both of their pussies, already excited for what's to come tomorrow.

You discovered what Irene did to Seulgi after you fucked her ass. She inserted a butt plug into the younger girl's ass. Now that you remember, you tell Seulgi to turn around. Once she does, you pull up her dress, spreading her ass cheeks apart. The sight almost makes you drool. The metal fits perfectly between Seulgi's cheeks. Something seems to be engraved into it.

"Daddy's play thing"

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

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed the second story. I apologize for the bad quality of Seulgi's pictures and the lack of pictures of Irene in that outfit, but I was unable to find more or better ones.

This took me a little longer, being almost 10k words long. I think this is the most words I've written at once. Sorry for the slight delay, compared to last time.

[gabriellessworldd]

Never get yo bitch back!

☆ Part one ☆

plug!connie x black fem reader

wc- 2.3k!

☆ warnings ☆: this is part 2, if you haven't read part 1 you should read that first. Not proof read! this might be a lil longer than i intended. mdni! small small time skip (3 weeks since the party, fb is included), mentions of guns, smut again lol i'll write some fluff soon maybe angst who knows 😜, pnv, degradation, oral (f&m receive), choking, spanking, praising, Connie get a lil mad

"what..what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

The seven letter question still fresh in your mind 3 weeks later. Sure what you and Connie did was wrong, but what Eren did was way worse.

(fb to party night)

Connie stood there tying his sweats nonchalantly while you fumbled to put your clothes frantically. Eren looked heated, his fists clenched while he poked his tongue at his cheek. "One of y'all fucking say something." Eren's eyes darted between y'all, "Oh cállate perra, no actúes como si te importara ahora." oh shut up btc don't act like you care now Connie started walking towards Eren and he stood up straight looking Connie in his eyes "Whatchu gon do bitch boy? You can have the slut I don't care" Connie chuckled and punched Eren in his jaw. Eren grabbed his face and swung at Connie's nose, leaving a trail of blood running from it.

The boys traded hits each of them landing until Eren paused and spoke, "You know what, ion even know why I'm fighting about this shit, I cheated on yo ass wit Annie anyways." He looked at you with a smug grin on his face. That's when Connie finally had enough, he pulled his gun from his waistband and pointed it right at Eren. "Say some dumb shit to her again and I swear to god ima shoot you bitch." Eren then pulled his gun out and pointed it right back at Connie "Cmon then pussy you ain't gon do it." You watched the situation unfold, stunned by Erens words. Neither Connie or Eren was backing down and all you could do was watch. No one was still at Jean's house besides Ony, Armin, and Jean. They all decided to come upstairs after hearing the commotion and were shocked to find Connie and Eren pointing guns at each other.

"You wanna know something else Y/n, I fucked her a month ago nd her pussy was wayyy better." Eren looked at you over Connie's shoulder, making sure you heard him, and at that moment you realized that you meant nothing to him at all, the year of unconditional love and being his #1 supporter meant nothing to him. 'pop!' You looked around in horror when you heard the sound of a gun go off, you never expected either of them to actually shoot each other. You looked at Eren and watched him clutch his side, blood staining his pure white tee.

"damn Connie what the fuck bro" Ony was shocked "I mean at least ian kill him" Connie said slipping his gun back in his waistband and popping his blood stained knuckles "We gotta get him to the fucking hospital" Armin sighed and rolled his eyes before speaking again, "Y'all couldn't just talk this shit out like normal people?" Jean looked at Armin puzzled "Y'all worried about them fucking talking it out, he just shot him in my damn house man" He started pacing back and forth while clutching his head, slightly tugging at his hair "Got his ass gushing blood on my carpet." Eren looked at Connie "Fuck you bro. you deadass shot me" None of them were taking this serious at all, this felt so normal like it didn't phase any of them.

Armin and Ony helped Eren get in the backseat of Armin's car, "Sorry man but he ain't fucking up my nice cream seats." Ony said shrugging. Connie grabbed your hand and lead you to his car, while Jean stayed at home to clean. Connie hasn't said a word to you or looked you in the eyes since he shot Eren, just staring into the distance, deep in thought. It wasn't like he had never shot anyone before, this was his lifestyle, he was used to it at this point, and after being involved in this shit for so long, all of them were. He was scared that you would think less of him, that you wouldn't want to be around him, that you would find someone else who wouldn't shoot his homeboy for you. But honestly when you saw how far he'd go for you, it made you crave him even more.

"Thank you, Constance" you looked at him with a peaceful expression on your face, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and his face softened when he heard you speak, "Anything for you, hermosa"

(back to present)

"Y/nnn I'm back" Connie yelled, coming in through your front door sliding his yeezy slides off while setting down a bag of cfa and a bouquet of beautifully arranged roses. You'd given Connie a key to your apartment 2 weeks ago after he started visiting you everyday. Something about you made Connie feel at peace, the way you smile at him, how your eyes light up when talking about your interests, the way your face tells how you're feeling, even the way you would glare at him for not cleaning up after himself. Maybe it wasn't just something, it was everything about you. He loved being able to visit you anytime, you'd always make him feel cherished, like you cared for him so deeply.

"Hola mi hermosa, how you doing?" Connie walked towards you and wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you softly. "Hi Con, I'm good. What'd you get to eat?" You stretched, body feeling stiff after laying in bed most of the day. Connie went and grabbed the stuff from the table by your door, "Here, also these are for you princesa." He handed you the roses and you looked at him with teary eyes, "Con, these are so beautiful. What are they for?" You grabbed them from his tattooed hands "Damn I can't just do something nice for you" He chuckled wiping the small tears from your tanned cheeks.

You both finished eating and were laying in your bed when you heard the front door open. You and Connie both got up, he grabbed his gun from off the nightstand and walked in front of you. Standing in your living room was none other than Eren Jaeger with the box in his hands you'd labeled 'trash', it was all his belongings that had been left in your house, and after that night you stuffed it all lazily into the large box. "Just came to get my shit, ian looking for y'all asses." Eren chuckled to himself and looked at you and Connie, a large scar across his left cheek from when Connie punched him with his rings on, a reminder of that night.

"Hurry up and get the fuck out my house." You spat out looking him up and down "Damn Y/n, you so rude to me now. Can't even answer the phone for me no more" Eren looked at you smugly, he knew you had him blocked, he just wanted to fuck with you. "Shut the fuck up bro just grab yo shit nd dip" Connie crossed his arms and leaned back on your counter "Can you mind yo fuckin business?" Eren rolled his eyes and picked up the box. "Give me yo spare key too" Connie didn't want Eren coming back again. Eren threw the key at Connie and walked to the door, "Y/n, you know what my number is, let me know when his bitch ass ain't home" He winked at you and closed the door behind him. "The fuck?" Eren's lil comment made Connie's blood boil.

Connie grabbed you by the throat and pulled your head towards his. The kiss was anything but sweet, it was so sloppy, so nasty, it put french kissing to shame. He sucked and bit on your neck leaving marks behind, "You look so pretty like this mama". Connie picked you up and carried you to you bedroom, he dropped you on the bed "you know I love you, right?" Connie looked at you with a cold stare, "uh yea, why Con'?" you grew anxious and shuffled on the bed. "Cause im finna fuck you like I don't."

Connie stood over you, pulling your small pj shorts down revealing that you didn't have on panties. You laid back on the bed as Connie got on his knees and fixed himself between your legs, resting them on his shoulders. Connie spread open your soft folds with his middle and index fingers coating them in your slick, "So wet for me mami, ay dios mios" oh my god You let out a soft gasp when his fingers grazed over your clit. Connie dived in, sucking on your clit, starting off fast in hopes of you becoming a wet mess quickly. He pushed both fingers in, pumping slowly. "mm Con' faster please" He listened and picked up the pace drastically, curling his fingers hitting that soft, spongy spot "a-ah! fuck Con' right there!" You cried out feeling him lick and suck on your clit again. His left arm was keeping you secured so you wouldn't move your legs. Your hands were tangled in his short hair, gripping as much as you could. "Cmon mami, I wanna taste you" Connie continued the rough pace making your legs gently shake. You could feel the familiar tingle in your lower stomach, Connie noticed you were close, feeling you slightly tighten around his fingers. "Ah! Con' Fuck! 'm gonna" Your words were cut off when a final pump of his fingers clouded your vision. Connie lifted his face, entire bottom half covered in your wetness, "Tan deliciosa, como siempre" so delicious as always

Connie relentlessly fucked your face, his heavy balls slapping your chin with every thrust. His fingers were buried in your hair, keeping your head in place. "Ah fuck mami, feels so good" Your teary eyes looking up at him as he continued his brutal pace, gagging you. Connie paused giving you a false sense of relief, "t-take it all ma" He pushed your head down, forcing you to take all his length. "mm fuck ma i'm cumming" You felt the hot spurts travel down your throat and swallowed, leaving behind a slight burn. "Such a good slut for me hm?"

You were currently on your back, legs pressed next to your ears as Connie fucked you nice and slow, one hand stabilizing himself while the other was pressing on your stomach. "a-ah Con' please, go faster" You knew saying this was like a challenge, but still you wanted to feel the sweet sting of him stretching you out. "hm princesa, you gon be a good girl and handle it?" Connie sped up just a bit, pressing on your stomach harder. You nodded your head, "Use your words, you a big girl right?" The condescending tone of his voice made the statement bittersweet, "fuck! yes Con' i-i can" He laughed at your eagerness "alright mama, get on all 4's f'me"

Connie pressed on your back, deepening your arch. "Stay just like that baby." He rubbed his tip down your folds collecting the arousal, and pushed in without warning. "Ah!" You jumped from the sudden intrusion, "unh uh you said you was gon be a good girl" He smacked the fat of your ass, the sound echoing. Connie started thrusting, going fast just as you had previously wanted, but this pace was nothing like you imagined, "Fuck mami, throw that shit." He smacked your ass again and you obliged, "C-Con' s'too much, I can't" Your right arm went out behind you, trying to push Connie "Nah mami, t-thought this was what you wanted, right? Gimme yo other arm." You leaned forward on your chest giving Connie the left arm, he held them both tightly behind your back with his left hand. "Oh fuck Con'!" He smacked your ass again before snaking his right hand around your throat, squeezing, and pulling you up. "Fuck ma, take all this shit. Keep goin" Connie never let up his pace, fucking you dumb. "Ah Con' Fuck pleasee" You whined out, throat feeling tight from the lack of steady air. "Such a good slut f'me. You wanna cum?" His words made you tighten around him and you nodded your head as best as you could with his hand still around your neck, "What I say about that shit?" Connie sped up, "Mm yes Con'! fuck let me cum please!" Your whole body was tingling at this point, and all you wanted was to cum. "Work for it then, 'm almost there mama just wait a lil bit" Connie rutted his hips into you chasing his high, "F-fuck mami" You were desperately trying to hold off, feeling that knot continuously tighten with every thrust. "Go ahead mama." His words were like music to your ears. You finally let go, the last thrust sending you toppling over, Connie right behind you. The warm liquid filled you up, and he pulled out, spilling some out of you "Mm princesa, hiciste un desastre." you made a mess

Connie helped you shower, and changed the sheets on your bed after putting the old ones in the washer. Connie wrapped your hair up and put your bonnet on, "yea ima have to get you a new wig" Connie giggled making you look at him and roll your eyes "Alright my bad, but for real ima send you some money so you can go get all gorgeous nd shit" You looked up at Connie's face "You bein for real?" You never had somebody offer to take care of your beauty needs. "Hell yea mama, nd I'm hoping that you gon be so excited wit me that you'll dye my hair after." Connie smiled, then he started laughing, "Awl shut up Connie, matter fact get out my bed." You rolled your eyes and soon ended up laughing too. Connie kept his arms around you tightly as y'all drifted off to sleep.

☆ taglist ☆: @universal-s1ut @luccis-coochie @mccookiemonster @taylarxse @empressdede lmk if you wanna be added!

Hi lovebugs!! did I feed y'all well? 😉 I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, what y'all wanna see in part 3? Also I appreciate all the notes, especially y'alls comments cs y'all are so sweet! Also can we talk about me reaching 100 followers and all the likes cs I never expected any of this, it's very crazy to me nd I'm so glad for all the love and support! (I said "y'all" wayyyy too much lmfao, it's the country girl in me 🤠)

-with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[yourname-exee]

A/n; I apologize I wasn't too sure how to end this. All characters are 18+

Warnings: panty sniffing, mentions of watching. Overall filthy. MDNI

Perverted Toge not a man of many words but many thoughts, dirty filthy nasty thoughts, and you were the star of the show. He couldn't help it especially when you wore that short skirt and tight top that hugged everything so deliciously. In other eyes it was a normal outfit but to Toge it was the thing that made him throb and wet the front of his pants with precum. Why did his innocent dumb sweet girlfriend have to wear something like that.

Perverted Toge who adjusted his hard on slightly, hoping it wasn't noticeable, as you bend over to pick up the thing Toge 'accidentally dropped', a flash of light pink panties peaking out as the skirt rode up slightly.

Perverted Toge who had your face pressed against the door of the janitors closet, his finger laced in your hair to keep you in place as his lips attacked your neck in wet kisses, he dry humped his hard member in-between your cheeks, with your skirt pushed up and your panties to the side, it snuggled so nicely there. Soft gasps leaving you causing you to bite down on your lower lip to keep from making any more noise.

Perverted Toge who came in his pants the second he felt you cum, wetting the front of his boxers.

Perverted Toge who later snuck those same panties into his pocket when he waited for you as you shower, your discarded clothes laying outside the bathroom door.

Perverted Toge who had those same dirty panties held against his nose, as he fisted his cock, the sweet aroma of your release still stained the fabric, he came the moment his tongue tasted your arousal on the panties.

Perverted Toge who felt ashamed of himself for doing so but would he stop (no).

Perverted Toge, snuck pictures of you in vulnerable positions, some nude and some just simply of you being cute.

Perverted Toge who got off to those same pictures later.

Perverted Toge who's eyes dance across your features as he watches you touch yourself, the way your fingers slide through your wet folds before plunging back in with a squelch causes drool to form at the corner of his lips, his cock leaking, staining the front of his boxers as he hears his name slide from your lips.

Perverted Toge who replaces your fingers with his own, catching you by surprise a yelp caught in your throat, molding into a moan as he curls his fingers just right, Toge brings his nose close to your core inhaling deeply, unashamed, your face heats up, screwing your eyes shut too in euphoria to be embarrassed for long.

Perverted Toge who later takes you out for ice cream cause you were the perfect adorable girlfriend he could ever ask for.