#sucked me and fucked me from the back - sOBBING

[serpentandflower]

A smutty little bucktommy drabble, because I am determined to live in a world where the end of 8x06 never happened. :)

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A trembling gasp slips free, exhaled against the pillow beneath his head. He’s caught there, barely able to breathe or think or do much of anything at all. 

Only taking what he’s given.

Lips brush over his temple, a gentle contrast to the hands gripping his hips. Pulling him back into every thrust that sets his body alight. He’s flying and falling all at once, as desperate pleas rise in his throat yet only whimpers and moans fall from his lips.

“That’s it,” that familiar voice croons in his ear, teeth tugging at his lobe. “Doing so good for me.”

Those hands grip him tighter, and that mouth latches onto the junction of his neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping and doing all he can to bring a beautiful smear of colors to the surface of his skin.

Electric heat sweeps through him, and he tilts his hips into every thrust. Desperately chasing the utter bliss that stays just out of reach.

“Tommy,” he cries hoarsely, a desperate thread weaving through his voice.

“I got you, baby, just let go.”

Buck relents to the fierce drive of his hips, his lips parting on a silent scream with every thrust of that thick, perfect cock. Fingers tug at his hair and the pinpricks of pain contrast the searing pleasure that builds and builds and builds, the dueling sensations nudging him closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” he breathes out, barely aware of having said it.

But Tommy hears it, and he’s hardly ever able to deny Buck a thing.

A choked sob catches in his throat when Tommy’s hand finds his flushed, leaking cock. It takes no more than three quick strokes and a callused thumb rubbing over his slit. His body seizes up, hitched whines tearing from his throat with every wave of utter pleasure that washes over him.

Tommy’s moan breaks through as he clenches tight around him and Buck does it purposefully now, riding the edge of overstimulation with every stuttered thrust of Tommy’s hips as tears slip free from beneath his lashes.

“Inside,” he gasps, knowing by the tremble of his body that Tommy is closed. “Please, Tom, don’t-don’t pull out.”

Tommy’s face buries in his throat to muffle the groan that wrenches from his chest, and Buck shudders at the spill of warmth deep inside of him. Marking him from within and claiming him in the most primal of ways. He clings to the feeling, a tired smile tugging at his lips that he got exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, baby,” Tommy sighs, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck as he slowly pushes himself up.

Buck whines a little as his cock slips out, already mourning the loss of it. Tommy’s broad hands grip his ass, spreading his cheeks as a tired laugh falls from his lips. He can feel the come trickling out of him and his teeth sink into his bottom lip as his face grows warm knowing that Tommy is watching.

“Look at you,” he says, his thumb catching all that escapes and pushing it back in.

Buck whimpers, reaching back blindly because he knows that Tommy won’t deny him. Soon enough, they’re entangled beneath the messy sheets. He’s surrounded by Tommy in a way he’s never been before this, before him, and it’s never going to stop being one of his favorite things. Knowing that Tommy can hold him like this.

Lifting their joined hands, he brushes his lips over Tommy’s knuckles and whispers a wish into the dark.

“Don’t leave.”

Tommy hums deep in his chest, tugging him even closer as if they can crawl into each other’s skin if they try hard enough.

Buck almost wishes they could.

“Not going anywhere,” Tommy murmurs sleepily.

It’s the last thing any of them say for a long time, and Buck clings to the promise in those words.

[hitlikehammers]

the light behind your eyes (steddie timeloop; pre-bat attack🦇)

feat. Eddie falling hard and fast when Steve's had innumerable loops to have already fallen ✨🖤✨

“Not that I am not, hmmmm,” and he can barely bite back a moan; “not that’s I’m not fucking ecstatic, Harrington,” Eddie mouths against the lips on his, and he means it, too, he is in fucking heaven right now because not only is the hottest guy Eddie’s ever seen in real life and probably also in, like, magazines and stuff too: that guy is kissing him, touching him, running hands up under his shit and teasing his waistband, rutting a little against his thigh but…he’s doing it almost like it’s routine, like it’s not quite desperate, or not just desperate, expect for the touch of it and so no, Eddie doesn’t have to understand it at all for him to not be fucking complaining in the slightest—

Save that pointing out that he isn’t complaining stops Harrington’s hands on his body cold, freezes the lips pressed against him mid-suck and then they pull back, and Eddie’s panting so hard it burns, and he wants to whine, he’s only just learned the taste of this man but he wants more, it’s like he’s addicted already but then kinda like he always has been, like the deepest cells of him, the mitochondria from the textbooks he didn’t fucking read: it’s like it all knows the shape of this body, the flavor, and—

And that’s fucking ridiculous, but when Harrington pulls away?

Eddie kinda feels like the world’s ending.

And it is ending, in a way. Interdimensional madmen serial killers and all that, but.

This is different.

“Steve.”

Eddie frowns and can’t help but reach, frame Steve’s face even as Steve tries to shy away but still leans into the touch, and Eddie doesn’t understand; not least how Steve sounds so fucking shattered around his own goddamn name—

“Can you,” and Steve’s breathing heaves, shudders: the kind that lives between sobs but Steve’s cheeks are dry under Eddie’s palms and that almost feels all the more heartbreaking:

“I know it feels like you barely know me but,” and Steve blinks so fast, then he’s scrunching his eyes so tight and that, that might be why his cheeks are dry and oh: this is it. He thought before but:

This is the heartbreaking thing.

“Could you call me Steve? Please?”

And god, good fucking god but he asks it so small. It’s pleading and kinda edged in something desperate but here, from this titan of a man Eddie’s seen anew just these past days, this warrior barbarian his sheepies sand the praises of, this paladin out of the shadows come to save them all: he’s so small.

Eddie’s hands don’t move from Steve’s face, just draw him closer, upward on instinct until their brows touch, until Eddie can breathe in every shaky exhale that spills forth.

“Steve,” and maybe Eddie doesn’t quite understand the why, here, but he sure as shit savors the shape of that name on his tongue anyway, fucking sue him; “not that every single fucking version of my gay little fantasies aren’t dancing like they’re at queer fucking prom,” and he pauses, because he expects Steve to snort, maybe, expects to lighten the moment so charged, and not just with the kind of tension that tightens Eddie’s jeans—and Steve does make a sound for Eddie’s stupid little not-quite-joke, but it’s not a chuckle.

It’s a moan—but not the good kind. The kind that means pain.

And it’s almost worrisome, how when Eddie pulls Steve closer, he doesn’t fight it one bit; leans in almost…not even greedy. Almost fucking anguished.

“But this is just because it’s the end of the world, right?” Eddie makes himself ask, because too many things don’t add up, not least how Steve doesn’t even try to pull away, barely moves at all save just to breathe, and just to press closer into the crook of Eddie’s neck to do it.

“It’s just because I’m a wanted man whether it’s the cops, or the feds, or that fucker with the clock and the music,” Eddie rambles; doesn’t move his hand where it’s slipped to the side of Steve’s neck like an intimacy, though, doesn’t even consider shifting a fucking centimeter away from the heavy pulse of life surging under his palm. “Like, I mean, whether it’s 20-to-life or an electric chair or the bats—“

It’s the way the chest against him shudders that trips him up; not least to realize how close they are, that they’ve gotten, that Steve’s heartbeat’s something he can tease out without effort at all there, too, and…

Eddie glances up a little further to see Steve staring at the ceiling of the trailer, eyes glistening, the effort not to fucking cry evident as anything and, just, like…

What the fuck?

“Steve?” Eddie hedges a little, gentles his voice further because even though he doesn’t let a single tear fall, just seeing this man so close to it, while staying so close to Eddie, it’s, he just…

He can’t even try to lighten the moment, can’t even push didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser, fuck past his lips.

“Give me a minute,” Steve doesn’t even rasp, just says even but so so quiet, and again, just so so small. It’s…

It’s not even heartbreaking anymore. Eddie’s whole chest just fucking hurts.

“You okay?” Eddie ventures after what has to be more than a literal minute; when Steve stops staring at the ceiling but screws his eyes close tight again to pull creases at their corners, between his brows; and Eddie whispers the question when he even dares to speak at all because something in this moment feels…fragile. Sacred in some way, even if he can’t name how or why. He waits, and Steve doesn’t move, barely breathes for the longest time so much it starts to kindle real fear in Eddie’s chest, so it’s only once Steve half-gasps and gets back to his lungs working like Eddie wants them to, once that holds for a while and Eddie understands that the closest to an answer that he’s going to get—he lets Steve breathe, and lets the feeling of it calm Eddie down, too, before he does the stupidest, most selfish fucking thing and asks, again:

“What is this, though?”

The way Steve sucks in his breath at the words cuts Eddie sharp; he shouldn’t have said anything. He should have let this lie and just…enjoyed a little bit of impossibility at the end of the world that wasn’t a bad thing.

He thinks maybe that’s what pushed him over, though, and made his tongue move, to shape the question at all: it’s so fucking far from a bad thing that it’s…it makes too much lightness in Eddie that he’s never felt before. Even in the absolute shit of this entire situation, Eddie’s basically nonexistent future on the horizon if he manages somehow to make it out of the next 48 hours alive: this is something that makes him feel like he could hope.

Hope even for the most absolutely absurd fucking things.

And hope like that has to make anyone fucking selfish.

“This?” Steve glances indicatively between them, with a quirked brow that he pulls off perfectly but it can’t land like it should, not for Eddie who’s just watched this gorgeous human swallow the stages of grief whole where he’s…he’s pulled back, Eddie realizes, Eddie can’t feel him chest-to-chest anymore and the idea of it’s a crushing thing, but it’s got nothing on the reality—either way, though, he’s hovering over Eddie now, still close, likely has been for a while and…and shit: his arms hadn’t even given out.

What the fuck kind of…superhuman stuff is this man made of?

“Thought it was obvious,” Steve chuckles, and that part, that sound rings hollow: Eddie’s had enough of a latent-forever crush on this boy for enough years to maybe have never heard this kind of chuckle but, it’s off. Eddie knows it’s not…what it should be.

Steve laughing is some kind of sunshine, nearly always, like a rule. Eddie knows that much.

“Must have lost my charm,” Steve grimaces while he looks down, down, hides from...Eddie doesn’t know what from, exactly. Save that whatever it is, he wants to hide a little, too.

But hiding, now, means that he’ll turn from Steve. And Eddie…Eddie wants to hide from the nameless horrible thing that’s swelling up in the space around them.

But Eddie doesn’t want to miss a second of Steve. He’s kind of afraid of the very concept of it, missing any…part of Steve. He knows they’re on borrowed time. He’s also not entirely sure this isn’t all of fever dream, maybe he got scraped by one of the nasty-ass rusted nails in the boathouse and all of this is just tetanus or some shit. Maybe it’s the X-Men-knockoff wizard fucking with Eddie’s head by giving him the unthinkable sort of thing he’s always wanted.

Whatever it is: Eddie cannot miss a second of it.

“This, yeah,” Eddie reaches to brush Steve’s chest where his heart’s still pounding, even when it’s not presses flush to Eddie’s anymore, even when they’e stopped kissing too many minutes ago for an excuse; “you more that live up to the hype, big boy,” Eddie chuckles a little, tries to make it warm, fucking grateful; “exceed it even,” Eddie adds, can’t help but splay his fingers and stroke up and down a little over the street of Steve’s shirt.

“But,” because Eddie’s selfish. Because touching Steve slow like this, even as he’s so stiff and his pulse is so fucking scared: take out the frantic pace of what it means to feel him, and Eddie…the hope’s all the stronger, now. The wanting.

The selfishness.

“This,” and Eddie lets his hand move to the notch in Steve throat, like his body knew he’s feel the pulse there as much as the shiver, and the hard swallow after he asks, one more time:

“What is this.”

And Eddie forces his gaze from Steve’s skin to Steve’s face, where his eyes are blown and his color’s off, too pale even in the dark.

Where he’s fucking beautiful, even as he steels himself and takes a deep breath, less like a diver to the depths and more like a man facing an executioner. Jesus.

But his gaze is still so tender, like whatever hurt he comes to know for what he’s about to do is acceptable, so long as it doesn’t touch Eddie, doesn’t spill over. Like he’s…shielding Eddie from something worse than everything that’s already come, somehow, and that’s fucking terrifying in and of itself but—

But Steve—Steve who he barely knows but feels like he knows somewhere deep in his chest that feels knew and known somehow before these moments, like it was made only for the feelings and the certainties he holds in regard to Steve, Steve, Steve, like maybe that space inside of him was only made on some cosmic level not just for the person who made him feel this way against all odds, but maybe made only and specifically just for Steve—but Steve protecting Eddie, and hurting all the more for taking the hit?

It’s unacceptable. It’s sour in Eddie’s veins.

“If I fuck it up again, it won’t matter, I guess,” Steve seems to speak to himself, mutters low even for the soft quiet they’re holding between them. He doesn’t even know if he’s seeing Eddie for how far away he looks, sounds, like he’s reasoning with the universe.

That tips the sour feeling straight into full on sick.

But before Eddie can say anything, do anything, Steve’s sitting up, drawing back: Eddie can’t help the way he whimpers in the back of his throat for the loss; if the loss feels like more than just the closeness, the promise of it—if it feels like the moments to come are poised to change the world.

“Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” Steve asks, implores. Eddie’s powerless against it.

His throat’s already too dry to do anything but nod.

Steve looks, nearly studies him, wide-eyed and needy and…Eddie just wants to hold him.

He just wants to hold him, and keep him.

“‘Kay,” Steve exhales heavy, shaky, like his heartbeat’s knocking around his lungs so there’s no possible world where he could have breathed out steady, where no one could, no matter how strong.

“I’m in love with you.”

Eddie—for wholly other reasons he suspects—gets his own dose of his lungs getting knocked around for how his heart trips and stumbles around those wholly fucking impossible and insane and desperately wanted words echo through his head, his ribs.

“And it might not make and fuckin’ sense to you, but,” and Steve’s breath hitches as he reaches, as he pauses like he’s not sure he’s allowed; “Eds,” and that’s not a thing he’s called so often, and certainly not in that tone, gutted but so steeped in…he said it and it’s true, because that name, hisname on Steve’s lips is fucking saturated in love and how, sure, but the fact of its undeniable enough that the semantics, the mechanics of it: irrelevant.

Would have mattered in the face of something lesser, but.

This isn’t that other-lesser thing.

So Eddie grabs those questioning hands and brings them to his cheeks where they’d been looking to land, to frame his face: to let them both feelthis, however it came to be, whatever else it holds inside.

He looks Steve in the eyes as he holds Steve’s hands to frame his own face like he’s something dear: because it is love. Unmistakably. Steve isn’t lying, or exaggerating.

And Eddie’s halfway fucking there with him, just to look at it.

Save for the way it also looks devastated. Also looks…in the kind of pain that doesn’t end, but somehow doesn’t fade. The scab you rip off to start the process over and over, to hurt all over again.

“I’ve been trying to save you so many times,” and Steve’s voice hitches some more around it, and it should probably cause more question, those words; should definitely cause more questions for Eddie himself, given how he accepts it so fast—the fairly clear implication.

“I’ve held your body in my hands so many times,” and Steve sounds broken for it in ways that even he, Edward Munson, who has seen what he’s seen these past few days, didn’t know a body, or a soul, could withstand and survive.

Also: okay. Okay.

More than an implication, before. Yep. Okay. But—

“Times?” Eddie finds himself croaking because…he’d jumped straight to saving his life but, but: times?

How many fucking times has Steve scratched the scar off and started again? How hard, how deep is the scar tissue?

“I’ve broken your ribs trying to convince this,” and Steve’s hand’s sliding down from one side of Eddie’s face to settle over Eddie’s still fumbling heart, hand stretched wide like it wants to hold the thing whole and true and safe: “to come back, back to me—”

And Steve’s voice cleaves down the center then, just flat out fucking gives out. And Eddie…

Eddie’s an impulsive person. Eddie’s not what you’d call…circumspect, doesn’t pull his punches once he feel inclined to run, to or from or alongside anything in his life.

And even he has never felt so strongly about anything than then thing that spills form him in absolute earnest, with the whole of his mess of a chest and the entire weight of his wild frantic heart:

“Sweetheart,” Eddie takes the one hand that’s not holding Steve’s to his face anymore and reaches, strokes his thumb so gently over Steve bottom lip, and yeah he takes in the way Steve’s eyes widen for it, the way he shifts from shattered to shocked in a second: but it’s all peripheral.

But the whole of Eddie is invested in the one thing he needs to know. More than he needs air to fucking breathe:

“How can I stay with you?”

And he watches Steve’s jaw drop as he moves his hand from those lips to cover Steve’s own hand one more time, still on toppings chest and he doesn’t think twice before damn near close-on begging:

“What do I need to do?”

Steve stills. Blinks.

“What?”

“I might not have had the pleasure just yet,” Eddie tries to sort the words out as he goes because his heart hurts so hard but at the same time it’s so full: “but I’m looking at you,” and he is, he’s looking at Steve and seeing so much, so many things, things that are there and things that could be there in the foreseeable future and things that Eddie can fantasize and dream of being his whole-ass future and just, just, just—

“You love me?”

Steve nods, lips still parted. No hesitation. Not a question.

Jesus.

And Eddie’s heart’s still racing, faster now, even but for…

Not just for fear, or shock, or lust, or…any of it.

Not for anything so simple as all that, now.

“And I die?” Eddie chides himself when Steve flinches ever so slightly, tries to find a gentler way to pitch the words when he speaks again because the point itself is thorny, he can’t make it soft:

“I’ve,” Eddie licks his lips; “I’ve died a lot of times?”

And he waits, and Steve’s blinks a lot of time really fucking fast, but then, again: he nods.

And Eddie’s heart hurts harder at the confirmation, and Steve’s clear bid not to shed a single fucking year—his heart hurts harder, but poundsharder for bigger reasons because fuck, fuck—

“And you’ve loved me enough to somehow bend time and space to try and undo it, to try and stop it?”

And if Steve’s got the trick to that magic, it stills the moment, stops time around them both as Eddie sees the words as they sink in for Steve, as they register and shift the shade of his gaze ever so slightly, brighter and deeper and magnetic and Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t need him to nod. Just looking him, just feeling everything that gaze is giving, solely for him, is all the answer he needs.

“So how do I get even the chance to stick around enough to deserve it?” Eddie asks, because he needs to know so that he can make sure he does it to the letter, and then fifty million times over to be sure. “To get to feel it full on,” because for as much as he’s already feeling, he can’t only imagine what it would be to feel it for an hour, a day, a week, a…a lifetime. He can only image.

And he fucking wants.

“What do I have to do to be able to feel this for more than a couple minutes,” and Steve’s eyes shift again, because he hears what Eddie’s saying, not hiding so much as trying to cram in: he feels this already, and at the same time knows it’s sample sized when what he craves, what he needs is something too big to measure; “to feel this, and return it twenty-fold and for the long haul,” and Steve’s still staring, still kinda gaping, so Eddie forces himself to pause, to ask even if everything points to a singular answer—he forces himself to wait and make super fucking sure:

“If you’ll have me?”

Steve blinks, frowns, then asks, voice hoarse:

“You believe me?” and he says it so slow, disbelieving himself. “Like, you get what I’m saying, and you, you,” he flounders, looks cast adrift and closer to tears now than he’s been yet and Eddie…

Eddie can’t let that just be.

“Of course I do.”

And maybe it’s not of course exactly, in the sense that Eddie doesn’t have questions, like a fuckton of questions but: he doesn’t have doubt, not in Steve. Somehow of all that he doesn’t know and that makes no sense, he does know that Steve is where his faith—if he was ever going to have any in anything—is meant to sit, whatever that means, whatever that demands accepting.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with so much of himself he never knew was actually inside him to speak, to beg such truth. He didn’t know.

“So please, please tell me,” he fucking please it; “what do I do?”

Because he knows now. The breadth of what can, could, does, will live in his chest. And once he knows it?

He’s gonna fight like hell to have the whole of it. For always.

“To get to have this,” Eddie reaches, can’t help but brush some of Steve’s hair behind his ear and just…consider him. Marvel a little at the fact that the world is changing, Eddie can feel it, and it’s because this man loves him.

Him.

“This thing I’ve never even considered getting to know,” Eddie strokes Steve’s jaw and asks the only question left:

“What do I have to do to have the chance fall in love with you?”

Because Eddie doesn’t care if he has to lob off a fucking arm. He’ll do it. He’ll learn to play his guitar with his goddamn feet before he lets this chance go.

“Don’t be a hero.”

Eddie’s face must do something at the sorta sudden kind of outburst from Steve, because Steve ducks his head down a little and smiles almost apologetic, and still so fucking sad.

“I tell you not to be cute about it, and not to try to be a hero, but you are, you do, every time,” Steve tells him, explains, and that part at least tracks: he’s a contrarian to his detriment but…he doesn’t want to believe he’d do it when the stakes are this high. Not without a good reason and he can’t…imagine a good enough reason to leave this man so broken, and still fighting nonetheless.

He can’t imagine any reason in the whole fucking world good enough for that.

“Then I won’t,” Eddie says, because: well. It’s an easy fix in general, but like, he’s no fucking hero, so then it’s even easier.

“You will,” Steve smiles the saddest goddamn smile Eddie’s ever seen in his whole entire life., I too of the string of sad smiles he’s been treated to so far. “You always do,” and the resignation in stage a tone is only outweighed by the…pride, almost, for what he’s declaring against all odds to be true.

“Just, just,” Steve seems to debate with himself for a second, maybe whether he wants to fight the weight of established precedent one more time, wants to scratch off that scab in a whole knew way, because it felt like Steve was watching this play out different when Eddie believed him, and asked to work with him to make the wrongs right instead of aiding the process of his own ruin, and what looked like Steve’s own process of self-immolation in slow motion, over and again. Eddie gets why he pauses.

But it’s not even long enough to be called hesitation, really, before he’s diving in and giving Eddie the playbook, with no guarantee or even a whole lot of hope based on existing evidence to trust.

Eddie feels the magnitude of the living in a whole new way, on a whole new level, for that, as Steve speaks:

“When you do, when you’re a hero again because you always are, I need you to run when you’re done. We will be okay, I know what I’m dealing with now, I know how,” Steve says with. Steel creeping into his tone and Eddie wants more than anything to know what he’s planning to deal with, how Steve plans to stay safe because now Eddie’s heart’s tied up on the opposite end of the equation and he…he can’t survive and have it only flip the tables, have there still be a loss because Eddie’s not made of what Steve’s made of, and sure he’s only had a taste of this, but he…

He won’t survive losing it. Even just the taste.

“Don’t buy us more time,” Steve cuts back into Eddie’s headspace, the more important voice; the most important; “you do more than enough, I need you to trust me and I know you don’t have a reason to—“

“I trust you.”

And that’s unequivocal. Eddie trusts Steve. The end.

“How will I know when I’m done?” Because if Steve’s willing to go through this for him, he’s going to fucking take notes to make sure he does his part in turns, makes sure this is the last fucking time.

“Play the puppet master song,” which Steve doesn’t know, no way he’d fucking know on his own and Eddie didn’t doubt, but, like…

Jesus.

It takes a fucking second, just digesting what it means to be right for no doubting. It’s heady. Terrifying.

But also like stars in his stomach. He feels reborn in the simple reality of believing in this person who loves him this hard.

“Block the vents, don’t ignore the vents. When Dustin goes up the rope, you follow. Pull it up after you and block it off, hold them off in case any stragglers stick around,” Steve tells him, doesn’t sound skeptical, exactly, but just…maybe wary. Rightly so, given the…previous rounds of things. “We’ll need you to throw it back to us when we’re done.”

Eddie feels his face screw up a little because he wasn’t paying the most attention but he really thinks, like:

“Aren’t there closer gates—“

“I’ll need to,” Steve swallows hard, the bob in his throat almost painful to watch because Eddie can almost imagine the weight of it, the way the same motion’s been repeated so many times and yet he’s still at it, he’s still trying—

For Eddie. Jesus fuck.

“I’ll need to see.”

And if the hard-swallow wasn’t heartbreaking—again, every time Eddie thinks he’s been gutted entirely Steve goes and ups the fucking ante, good god, and he keeps doing this? He continues to say yes to this, these feelings, this, this…this, because if, for, for…

But regardless how you slice it: the way Steve’s voice cracks, on just those four words?

Holy fucking Christ—this has to be what’ll kill Eddie harder, deeper down than anything Steve’s trying to save him from.

“I won’t fail you this time, Steve.”

And Eddie means it, even if the words themselves spill from him automatic: they’re there to spill at all because Eddie means it, because Eddie’s heart’s never felt swollen like this before and he wants to give whatever it’s all fat and tender with to this man he barely knows but…maybe he knows more important things about him than he knows about most people in his life. Nearly all people in his life.

And that’s fucking has to count for something. For more than something.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, like he wants to argue some point but Eddie isn’t gonna have that, not now.

Not ever again, if he has anything to fucking say about it.

“No,” Eddie cuts him off and this time, this time, it’s Eddie who reaches and cradles Steve’s face, holds him like he’s precious, as much as he can because this man is precious beyond reason, but human hands are only capable of so much care: he gives what he can.

He knows it’s not enough, and hopes his heart in his words will make up the difference.

“No, this,” and he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath Steve’s eyes, because as gorgeous as they are, as he is: those eyes used to be bright. They were bright…before. When did they change, when did Steve from now like Eddie become Steve who’s tried to start Eddie’s heart with his own hands, and couldn’t?

Doesn’t matter.

Steve’s eyes aren’t supposed to be hollow behind the color; there’s only supposed to be the sunshine.

Not the endless dark.

“I’ve been taking it away, haven’t I?” Eddie breathes out in a level of horror at the realization that’s settling in the more he looks at Steve, and reads the toll he’s been paying, for Eddie. “I hate that, I hate that I—“

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, and the only shine in his eyes is tears and it’s wrong, it’s just wrong.

“It gets taken away because yours isn’t there anymore,” Steve reaches back, now, and holds Eddie’s face in his broad hands: “the light in you,” and his voice cracks and he blinks and one tear.

One tear falls.

Eddie’s sternum splits in two.

“I want to know what it is to fall in love with you,” Eddie says in a rush, demands on the whole fucking cosmos: “the whole way, because I think I’m already halfway there,” and it’s true, it’s true because he’d give his life for Steve already so he understands, of Steve’s in longer and deeper, why he’s fighting despite the hurt, but, but…

No more.

“And I want to earn it,” Eddie tells him. “I want you to fall for me not just because of, because of life and death stuff, or tied up in losing,” Eddie tries to fit the avalanche of feelings in him to words, prays it’s enough:

“I want it to be a,” he chokes, shakes his head and bites his tongue: “a good thing,” because he wants to be a good thing for this man. He wants to be only a good thing, as best he knows how.

“You are a good thing,” Steve counters, and fierce with it; “you’re the best thing.”

Eddie’s not strong enough to hold himself to just one tear when the floodgates break.

“I run when Henderson runs,” he breathes shakily. It’s a vow more than anything he knows how to give.

“You don’t run,” Steve tells him, so soothing, still so protective of Eddie, always protective of Eddie; “you’re so fucking brave, and you save our asses,” and he brings their foreheads to lean against each other as Eddie’s inhales trembles: “you’re just gonna fall back this time, so you don’t break my heart, too, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie would agree to anything, at this point; this is easy. This he can do, no problem.

This he will do, no question.

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself whispering, because…because he has to.

He is so fucking sorry.

“You’re…” Steve starts, uncomprehending as Eddie just shakes his head, almost like a compulsion.

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you so many times,” Eddie hissed through clenched teeth, tries not to descend into blubbering, tries to maintain something like, if not composure, the capacity to be heard and known when he promises with his whole heart:

“I won’t do it again, I swear.”

And Steve watches him, eyes red rimmed and still brimming but carefully, assessing.

Eddie can help, though. He can put him a little bit at ease, or damn well fucking try.

“I already feel something,” and he brings Steve’s hand to his chest again, reminds them both his heart’s still beating in this world, in this time. “And I’m too selfish Steve.”

Steve cocks his head in question; Eddie wants to watch this man’s quirks, learn the minutiae of his every expression.

Forever.

“I need the whole shebang.”

Steve smiles, watery and still strained but less sad, and that’s something.

It’s all they have time for, because he can hear everybody coming back with supplies, remembers they’d been prepping for war.

It’s all the have time for—for now.

“I’m holding you to that,” Steve says, a little watery, a little shaky, a little unconvinced but wholly filled with love, still, and all together isn’t only serves to harden Eddie’s resolve that much more.

“You flake on me again?” Steve flips his fingers backward against Eddie’s shoulder in a poor excuse for a smack: “I’m gonna tie you to the driver’s seat next time, and leave Nance with Dustin.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Eddie answers, dead serious; “except for one thing.”

There’s something molten, a glint that isn’t tears when Steve lifts a brow in askance; when Eddie leans in and kisses Steve hard, deep, quick because they have to but it doesn’t have to be anything else because he leaves his heart and soul in the exchange, willingly and willfully and all fucking in.

“There’s gonna be a next time for that. I swear to god,” Eddie murmurs against Steve slips when he pulls back; “we’re gonna have so many next times.”

And when the door to the RV bursts open and everyone else spills in, Steve’s lips are a little swollen if you’re looking.

And Steve’s eyes still have that light.

For @klausinamarink, who requested 'The Light Behind Your Eyes—My Chemical Romance' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts

divider credit here

💫 ao3 link here

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (3)

Summary: He ruins what you had...

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Ari being a douche for a moment, sad reader, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy scare, mentions of being unemployed, money problems (implied), remorse, we love Bear

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Catch up here: Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (2)

A/N: I added the first details of the following request to this part.

Your days off flew by faster than you wanted. Ari and you spend every moment together, lots of cuddling and sex included.

Before you knew it, you called your boss to quit your job. Ari told you more than once that he wants you to stay – forever.

He seemed to be adamant about keeping you around. And you, well you, wouldn’t want to leave him, his cabin, and Bear for all the money in the world.

It was the first time in your life that you got the feeling you found your haven, a place where you belong, and are wanted.

“Ari,” you call for your lover and maybe future boyfriend. “Baby? Do you want to join me for a walk? We could take Bear too.”

Ari doesn’t answer. He came back from another grocery run half an hour ago. Ari didn’t say much. He simply carried all bags inside, and even ignored when Bear nuzzled his leg.

Assuming he had another encounter with the, in his words, annoying town folk, you snicker. Ari just hates having too many people around. You don’t know what happened, but he likes staying to himself – hence the cabin in the middle of nowhere.

A minute passes by, and another without a word from Ari. You sigh and decide to help him unpack the groceries. Winter is close, and Ari wants to restock his pantry.

“Ari?” You walk inside the kitchen, smirking as Ari is busy cleaning the counter. Last night you had sex on it, and you didn’t have the time to clean it yet. He huffs and snatches your panties from the ground to throw them into the trash can.

“Shit everywhere…” He mutters, still not looking at you. “Everywhere…”

“Can I help you?” You step closer to Ari, to hug him from behind and rest your head against his back. “We ruined it together. Let me lend you a hand.”

“Christ, can you leave me alone for five minutes?” He raises his voice, making you flinch. “It feels like you’re breathing down my neck all the time. Sometimes, a man needs time on his own. You’re suffocating me! Why are you so clingy all the time.”

You stiffen and immediately drop your arms. Stepping away from Ari, you feel like someone punched you in the guts. Not days ago, he told you again that he wanted you to stay forever, and now, Ari is telling you he hates having you around.

“Alright,” you try not to choke on the tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ll leave you to…cleaning.”

Ari huffs when you run out of the kitchen, and upstairs. He believes you’ll give him space and come back down later to join him for breakfast.

Bear whines as he looks at his owner. The Estrela Mountain Dog dips its head to watch its owner angrily scrub the kitchen counter. “Not now, Bear. I had a shitty day. My fucking ex-wife called, that blood-sucking bitch…”

“Shoes, pants, wallet,” you sniffle while throwing all of your belongings into your backpack. You wipe your eyes and choke out a sob. How could you believe Ari wants more from you than sex? Of course, he’s already bored and wants you gone. “That’s all.”

Ari left the house to go for a walk with Bear some time ago. This way, you don’t have to say goodbye. You’ll just sneak out and find your way back to civilization and loneliness.

Grabbing your backpack, you sigh. For a few weeks, you believed you found a home. Now you know better. No man can be trusted. Especially not the kind looking like he came right out of a wet dream.

You slowly walk out of the room, not looking back. If you turn around, you’ll break down and cry. That’s the last thing Ari wants, a whiny and desperate woman clinging to him. Maybe he even believes after you quit your job for him that you are after his money.

Shaking your head, you decide to not think of him any longer. It was great while it lasted. You had a great time and awesome sex. You’ll remember your time with Ari for what it was – a late summer fling.

“Y/N? Uh—I��m back. Listen,” Ari jogs upstairs to apologize for his earlier outburst. He was angry after hearing from his ex-wife after so long. The last thing he wanted was to yell at you. “Baby? I’m sorry for yelling. It’s just that…”

Ari stops in his tracks. He gasps when he finds the bedroom empty. “Y/N?” He rubs his scruffy chin. Something is wrong. All of your clothes are gone. Even the ones you carelessly dropped to the ground when you jumped at him to suck him off last night. “Baby?”

Bear trots inside the room. The huge dog whines loudly as you are nowhere to be found.

“Do you think she’s shopping?” Ari asks his dog. He furrows his brows as Bear lies down, and whines again. “Fuck…no…fuck!”

Sitting down on the bed, he buries his face in his hands. He screams your name, angrily stomping his feet. “I fucked up big time!”

Ari aimlessly drives around the area. He searches his property, every inch of it. In town, no one saw you, and you’re not answering your phone.

“Bear, I don’t even know where she’s living,” Ari hits the brakes hard when he sees someone walking along the road. He cranes his neck, only to see the cashier from the store in town wave at him. “Not her.”

He slams his hands on the steering wheel, cursing himself for ruining the best thing ever happening to him. “She’s gone, and it’s all my fucking fault.”

The first days back at your old place felt wrong—just wrong. You missed Ari's scent and his voice. You barely slept, not only because you felt like your heart got ripped out, but also because you found yourself in desperate need of a new job.

How foolish of you to quit your job for some guy you met not weeks ago.

“Fucking idiot,” you call yourself a needy and stupid bitch. “Only because his dick was good, you fucked up your career and will lose your apartment. Loser bitch. This is so typical of you.”

Four weeks have passed, and you feel numb. Not only did you not get your job back, but you’ve got another problem, and your time with Ari left more than a bad taste in your mouth.

Hot tears run down your cheeks, realizing you took too many risks by giving in to the charming and sexy man. Again, you tell yourself that you should’ve known better.

“Bear, come on,” Ari urges his dog. He finally found a trace of you. It took him almost six weeks to find out more about you, and your life. All he knew was your name. Nothing else was important while you were still around. Ari told himself, he could ask questions later and enjoy the blooming relationship you built. “We got to find her.”

Bear barks as Ari tugs at the dog leash. He sits down and whines loudly. “Stop making a fuss, you big beast. We have a job to do. Get up.”

The Estrela Mountain Dog remains where he’s seated. “What’s wrong with you?” Ari shakes his head. “We finally found her, and now you keep me from going to her?”

Ari huffs as his dog jumps up. Bear wags his tail and barks loudly. The dog suddenly starts running to chase after someone.

“Bear! Wait! Wait up!” Ari runs after his dog, dodging people here and there. “You stubborn beast. WAIT!”

Bear suddenly stops. Jumps at someone, making Ari yell his dog’s name louder.

“No! Stop attacking people. What are you doing?” His heart stops for a second watching Bear nuzzle your belly. The huge beast is whining for your attention as you carefully pat his head. “Bear, you beast found her!”

While you crouch down to wrap your arms around Bear, his owner steps closer. He watches you pat his dog while trying to find the words to apologize.

“There you are,” Ari huffs. “You must love watching me chase you.” He steps closer to grab Bear’s dog leash. “We will discuss your behavior on our way back.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You get back up to glare at Ari. “You wanted your freedom and silence back. I gave you what you wanted.”

You turn to leave, ignoring Bear whining louder. “I didn’t want you to leave. Y/N, I was having a bad day and yelled at you. I’m sorry.” Ari puts his hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off. “We could’ve talked things out, but you just ran. I needed weeks to find you. How could you just leave me?”

“How could you treat me like an intruder and a liability?” You snap at Ari. “All the time you told me to stay, and I believed you. I quit my job for you, only to get kicked out!”

“Y/N, I did not kick you out!” He growls. “You left! I came back and wanted to apologize, only to find you gone. I was scared to hell and back! Do you know how many nights I asked myself if you are still alive?”

You shrug. “You have a life to go back to, Ari. I suggest you enjoy your solitary, and I’ll take care of…” Biting your tongue, you look at the envelope in your hands. “Whatever.”

“Y/N,” he whispers your name when you are about to walk away. “Please. Let’s go somewhere else, and have a coffee. We can talk and fix this. It was all just a misunderstanding.”

Ari looks around the area, frowning as his eyes drift toward the building you left.

“There’s nothing to fix.” You want to walk away, but Bear blocks your path. “Bear, no!”

“A doctor?” Ari sucks in a breath. “Y/N. Baby, are you sick? Fuck.” Ari wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “How do you feel? What is wrong with you?”

You take a deep breath and say, “I’m pregnant…”

Tags in reblog.

[erveinangel]

// Divergent Universe thoughts in tags.

[knifesxedge]

imagine if my medication worked to stabilize my bipolar disorder.

[sucktacular]

trying to learn how to make Left4Dead mods, specifically a survivor model that I already have a model someone else made, BUT MY LORD im WAILING folks

not only am i back in the hell trenches that is a 3D modelling program (spits thinking about school) but also I cant find any good tutorials for Blender and, Kitten, I'll be honest. Daddy's about to kill himself (joke joke but also man this is the THIRD TIME trying again. first two times ended the exact same and i expect this one to end the same. stay tuned!!!)

ps if anyone has rigged up and put survivor models in l4d2 before I will literally draw you whatever you want, full color and shading, if you can put this fucking model for me on steam workshop. (not joking in the slightest, i have the model file I just need you to do the complex shit ; - ; it doesnt even have to be THAT GOOD i just want this fucker in my game)

[diseaseriddencube]

i thinkg it's so so intertesting that there's a throwaway line implying that fushi is physically incapable of/has never cried EVER!!!!! and then the anime fucked that up royally like i think it's soooo itneresting and i want him to enever evr be able to CRY like there cann ot be tears of sadness rolling down those cheeks absolutely NOT

[foxgirlmoth]

So my life is feeling like its on an upward swing since this is my final semester for my associates, I'm starting a new job real soon and also possibly have a really nice remote job if I hear back from a few places I recently applied to.

And it always terrifies me when good stuff starts happening.

Change is really hard for me especially when it feels like its all at once. With better pay comes the opportunity to leave my parent's house finally and move in with a girl who has lovingly stolen my heart. With my school behind me I can find better jobs even!

But at the same time, its just. So scary for me. What if I can't keep up my part of rent. What if my chronic pain or ADHD or other disabilities put a strain on someone I love to my core, and I end up making things worse because I get extremely emotional and will scream (at myself mostly) and panic during these high stress times (especially if money is involved)

I've had a 'safety net' of family members who barely tolerate the fake me I present myself as, and I know my mental health is going to be so much better when I'm not around them, but at the same time I need so much help sometimes. Family just happens to help in terms of shelter and food. It also doesn't help that the one other time I moved out it ended so so poorly that I'm still working through that trauma.

Hurting the love of my life in any way fucking terrifies me. I want nothing but the best for her always always always. I just know I can't always be at my best, its impossible to be. I will break at some point and probably scream and cry about how things aren't going nearly to plan and I'm so weak so often I don't know if I can pull myself together fast enough to not hurt myself or her with my untrue words.

[heyitslapis]

vent

[hatkuu]

that vamp!kylar period fic cleared my skin, fixed all my mental health problems, added $103839383 to my bank acc and sucked and fucked me from the back. ty hatkuu it was amazing

- 🎀

i am sososo glad you liked it so much!!! i've really been trying to up my smut writing game lately, and i was referencing other writers i like to make it sound more like writing rather than headcannons!! :'D

I'd love to write more lewd stuff so keep the requests coming!!! (who knows they might get turned into fics heheehehe)

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[kurooh]

when choso first learns about what facesitting really is, he brings it up after a make out session that’s left you both hot and heavy. he’s tugging on your hand, practically begging you to take a seat.

“i-i’m not sure,” you stutter, unsure. “what if you suffocate or something? i don’t wanna hurt you..”

the look he gives you is one of pure need and longing. “i don’t care, just sit baby. please.”

for good measure, choso gives you a little pout, breaking into giggles and a smile once you slip your panties and shorts off. your thighs tremble as you hover above his face, eyes squeezing shut at the heat of his breath against your sticky cunt.

“mmm, that’s no good,” he remarks, large hands rising to your hips and settling lightly. “i told you, sit down.” choso’s strong, yanking you down hard onto his face; you feel and hear his muffled moan when your pussy’s all over his whole face.

“choso!”

“so, so fucking good,” choso gasps against you, holding your squirming body in place as his tongue laps and laps at your sticky cunt.

beneath you, his body’s sweltering with heat, racing through every nerve like electricity while tight pressure builds in his cock. with a glance over your shoulder, you notice his hips rutting into the air as he searches for friction.

“cho,” you sob, so overwhelmed you actually feel tears building in your eyes, “i-i wanna suck you off, ‘s not fair—”

he easily lifts you and peers up at you from between your thighs, face flushed and shining with your slick. with a shaky finger, you nudge some of his hair away from his forehead.

“don’t want you to,” it’s painful to say, because he really does, but that’s simply a distraction for the both of you. “baby,” he murmurs gently, “i want you to focus on cumming for me, ‘s all, okay?”

you nod quietly, and the gesture is met with a mild slap to your ass. “okay, cho,” the moment the words leave your bitten lips, he’s pulling you back down and greedily drinking all of you in, taking whatever he can get.

choso’s ministrations encourage you to roll your hips against his face; a light bump of his nose to your clit has you crying out and grinding all over him. that’s right, he thinks, stars in his closed eyes. he wishes he could tell you to use him to get off, but he’d have to lift you up and he doesn’t want to even breathe.

unconsciously, he matches your pace, his hips rising into the air in synchrony with your own. one of your hands slips into his silky hair and tugs; he’s your anchor, keeping you somewhat steady although he’s the reason you can’t stop shaking.

“choso,” you wail loudly, angling your hips to let him take your clit between his lips and suck, “oh, i’m so close, ‘m gonna cum soon—”

from between your thighs, choso sees everything: the parting of your lips, the way your face crumbles in absolute pleasure, the brief moment of stillness as you fully fall over the edge.

it’s too much and not enough, but he cums too.

“c-cumming, choso,” is all you can muster, riding out your orgasm on his face and tongue while his hips buck wildly into the air.

the muffled moan you feel deep in your cunt makes you gasp, pulling away at the feeling of overstimulation, but he’s holding you tight. a look over your shoulder at the right moment, and you watch as his clothed cock explodes, gushing cum and soaking his boxers.

after all your squirming and pulling away, choso finally lets you go with crescent moon indents in your plush skin and a loud huff.

“i wasn’t done,” he heaves, skin smeared with your cum. it’s glossy and messy, but he won’t think about washing it off until you’ve cum at least three more times.

“but you came and everything, i—”

choso silences you by sealing his lips against yours, and you can briefly taste yourself— sweet, just like he’s always said.

“a few more times, please?”

[screampied]

MATCH MY FREAK ?! ★

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso. ranking the jik men’s freaks ‘n how nasty they are.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, overstim, choking, dumbification, dirty talk, first time squırt, size kink, spıt kink, mommy kink, lactation fantasizes, finger sucking, fıngering, brēeding, praise, humping, manhandling, nıpple play

wc. 4.3k

TOJI FUSHIGURO ★

the nastiest — doesn’t have any shame whatsoever. with toji, all he ever has to do is have you bouncing on his lap over and over.

that annoying everlasting slash of a scar runs down the right side of his lip as his attention’s focused on some old western movie. “mhm, there we go. milk me or whatever,” and you pout. he’s not paying you any attention on purpose. one hand of his grabs onto your waist, another gripping his empty beer can. glancing down at your sloppy cunt, he snarls. “you sure do love makin’ a mess, huh. look at this,” and you moan, feeling him bring both hips of yours to an abrupt stop. as his heavy cock’s still plummeting into the velvet of your cunt, he lifts you up a few inches. “all this cum goin’ ‘ta waste. so sad,” and you shudder, watching as he swipes a thumb against your dribbling entrance. his own seed oozes out of you and he smears it, dragging a bit onto the print of his thumb. “my, my. nice ‘n fresh,” and with doe widened eyes, you watch as toji licks his finger clean. you felt yourself throbbing immensely, and then he gingerly wraps a hand around your neck. “don’t just stare, girl. y’er gonna get a taste too. open nice ‘n wide, goood.”

as you’re harshly jerking back and forth, hearing the raucous groaning creaks of the sofa rock continuously, your mouth sags opens. toji dangerously leans in, one hand knuckles deep into your slobbering cunt before he pulls it right back out.

“fuck, baby look at how sloppy you get,” and he swivels his fingers inside before removing them, gathering a nice amount of his dribbling cum. toji looks at you with a with a haughty expression, so obedient. mouth all open, needy breaths falling out, you couldn’t have been any more perfect. “yeaaah, curl that tongue up ‘n tell me how i taste.”

once he places two thickset digits inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him.

your moans were now muffled due to his digits being shoved into your mouth — coating his thick fingers with your glistening, slick saliva. “mphh,” you whine, feeling his free hand creep down between your pried open thighs. toji’s staring at you with murky, hooded eyes as you’re still creating feverish friction. your tongue curls around his fingers and you savor the honeyed taste of his own cum swashing inside your mouth. you couldn’t describe the taste, bittersweet.

it was an entire mixture of bitterly sweet, almost no taste at all as the seconds past. toji’s big hand grips your cunt before he gives it a nice squeeze, watching your eyes roll back.

“god, y’r so fuckin’ nasty today, can’t even watch my movie without giving my girls some attention, huh,” and with his entire wrist, he spanks your cunt raw. “especially her, yeah you,” and his eyes flicker down at your sobbing pussy, not even staring at you anymore. “look at her tryin’ to talk back. too soaked though, shame.”

“t- tojiiii,” you pathetically purr out, the swatting smack against your folds giving you whiplash. as you attempt to speak, his fingers get pulled out of your lips, a long slimy-like trail of spit following and he glares at you. “gonna c-cum again.”

“you’re gonna be a messy girl when i tell you to be, baby,” he reminds you, and you could practically feel the milky ring forming around his base. from between your thighs, it’s so filthy.

sticky, each jolt you do on his lap by making haste with your hips has you feeling the stretchy strings of your own juices to his sloshing back and forth together. it’s filthy, you even have the audacity to try and sneak a hand between your thighs, hoping to touch yourself but he smacks it away. “girl, please. let’s not even go there.”

“but—”

“but nothin’. bend over,” and with a blink of an eye, you’re tossed on your back. you gasp, his quick movements barely giving you time to comprehend anything. first you were on his lap and now you were on all fours with your ass up in the air. you whimper, feeling him spank your left cheek before spreading it open.

with two broad hands, he dips his long tongue into your hole before cleaning out his cum with a single slurping lick. he wasn’t even fazed. you moan, shuddering from the stimulation and you’re oh so sensitive and he only makes it worse the moment he starts sucking you, cleaning you out from the back.

“aw, shaky are we? stay still, gotta clean you up silly girl. this cum doesn’t come for free.”

SATORU GOJO ★

satoru’s always been kinky — especially with you. one of his favorite things to do is to convince not only you but himself that he’s not a bottom. in the end, your hips always prove him wrong though.

reclined way back, he watches as your body grinds up and down against him, bouncy.

he groans gruffly, countless slender fingers grabbing ahold of your waist. your body’s movements were always so unpredictable, giving him a run for his money. “ah, ‘s fuckin’ good, baby. ride me jus’ like that, yeah. mhmm.” and you could hear the bratty strain in his voice. he huffs, snowy white strands sticking to his forehead like glue. your sopping wet cunt had a few loose strings of residue cum clinging near the crevices of your thighs and sticking to his. he just couldn’t get over how wet you were. satoru was heavily flustered, driving such thick inches into you. as he’s trying to keep up with his maddened pace — despite you doing all the work, you whimper from the outstretched girth. he reaches that spot and it messes you up every time.

fuck, it’s as if each thrust makes you feel him mold out your walls ten times more. he’s so big, the lazy curve on his cock had you feening for more. and if it was anything about satoru, it’s that he just wouldn’t stop talking. a blabber mouth, whining for you to go faster while at the same time, whining for you to go slower. “make up your mind, ‘toru,” you tease him, a slight tremor in your own voice. his heat entangles with yours and it’s so good.

the fervor, its steadily arising, mixing both individual pleasures as you grab onto his hand. a myriad of fingers intertwine amongst each other as you lewdly rock your body into his. god, it’s only been a few minutes, just a few minutes of yet another round and his eyes were already going back. so far back that you noticed the sexy flicker of white in his eyes paint his sockets a eerie new color.

“y- your hips, oh fuuuuck,” and he’s just slumped against the velvety sheets, feeling his heart beats pulse right through his ears. it’s loud, almost like a deafening beat to some sort of song. satoru’s jaw tightens as you’re preparing to milk him again for the third time. he’s panting like a dog before he suddenly spanks your ass. “mhm, baby,” he stammers out, meeting your gaze right away. you stroke his cheek, spotting the tiny pout pressing against his lips. panting laboriously, his lungs never felt more full. with a heaving sigh, he grabs your neck. “do that thing again, pleaseplease.”

you tilt your head, playing dumb. “do what?”

he groans, feeling his cock twitch inside from the sweltering warmth of your heated heat. taking a second to swallow, he huffs. “the thing, y’know,” and his white brows contort into a sheepish furrow. it’s adorable, it’s almost like he’s too embarrassed to say it. “s- spit in my mouth again, baby. wanna .. taste you.”

“fine,” you tease, wrapping a hand around his throat. he’s got the smuggest grin and your hips were gonna wipe it right off. satoru groans, watching you inch yourself closer, skin against skin, body against body, it’s so hot. with the way your cunt mercilessly drags itself against him, he felt like he about to melt. you gently scrape a thumb over his bottom lip, still rocking into him rigorously. “open your mouth, pretty boy.”

“heh, yes m- ma’am,” he swallows, getting turned on by your sudden authority. his dick pulses inside of you, curving all through your gummy walls with such intensity. he’s feral. satoru opens his mouth and you lean in, gathering a fair wad before watching it trickle down. he whines at the sweet taste of your nectar, feeling your fingers wrap around his throat and he’s just voluntarily wearing it like a necklace. “harder, choke me h- harder.”

scoffing, you tighten the grip around his neck and he moans. it’s a slutty moan, the kind of moan where it’s almost pornographic. “you’re such a brat,” you roll your eyes, almost forgetting he’s buried fat inches deep into your swollen cunt. your hips slow down its pace after a while as you’re still being your hips back and forth and he whines at your languid tempo. you give him a teasing smile, panting yourself before nibbling on his chin. “not satisfied, ‘toru?”

“mhm, no. even i could do better than that, baby,” he cheeses a grin and you lean in to kiss him. he grunts in your mouth, wet tongues sloppily sliding in sync and harmony. your hands start to wander near his bare chest, pinching his nipple and he groans. “h- hey! you kinky bitch.. heh do it again.”

SUGURU GETO ★

suguru geto’s the nastiest eater. it goes without saying. if he wants a taste, he’s gonna eat. doesn’t care what time of day it is, the meal between your thighs was always his favorite, hands down.

“s- suguuuu,” you’d breathe out, feeling each of your lungs ready to collapse. your breathing continued to become unsteady within each lewd second that passes. he’s nose deep, eating you out like a starved animal - saliva everywhere. it drips down the cracks of his lips and past his chin. your felt your voice go dry like the sahara as he’s stuffed right between your thighs. but with geto, more than anything, he loves eating you out whilst you’re still wearing panties. “fuck, ‘s sensitive still, suguru.”

“good, baby,” he rasps, flicking his tongue against the fabric, tasting against your pulsating clit. and oh, his flicks, as brief and thorough as they are, they turn sloppy. geto slurps you clean, treating your pussy like actual food. he’s so pretty too, lengthy long hair flowing down his broad tense shoulders. with your legs spread all out and open, you grab onto his hair, shoving his face closer against your heated core. “yeah, fuck my face. grind this nasty fuckin’ cunt against—mmphhh.”

he’s rudely cut off with how your pussy gets right into his mouth and his plump lips latch onto your arousal. there’s a cunning smile stretching against his lips and he finally peels away your pretty panties with his teeth, to the side.

you taste so sweet, his nose eagerly prods its way against your sopping wet slit, swiping the tip of his nose up and down like a credit card. you loudly whine, a familiar shakiness returning to your voice before your throat grows parched once more. “right there, p- please. don’t stop sugu, fuckfuckfuckkk.”

and your little cries only made him so much harder. not only did they make him hard but they fell on closed off ears. geto huskily grunts into your cunt — the timbre vibrations making you twitch into his mouth. he tastes it on his tongue, feeling you shiver right onto his tastebuds. as you’re drenching his chin with your wetness, he laughs right on your pussy. “c’monnn, baby. if you’re gonna pull on my hair at least do it right,” and he’s being cocky now. the grit in his voice turns you on and he reaches down to give his hardened cock a few pumps. spitting on the entrance of your cunt, shooting you a sly grin. “oh. what’s with the pout? i gotta pull my own hair?”

“s- shut up suguru,” you whine, feeling his hot breath fan against your clit. you’re so sensitive and you feel your back starting to arise, arching itself.

“make me, baby.”

and he chuckles before eating his words, eating your pussy, nearly gulping at the taste as his tongue swiftly maneuvers crazed circles against your stretched opening. you’re so wet that he could literally drown between your thighs. you’re dragging his face against your cunt and his smirk falters a bit the moment he feels himself close himself.

“s- shit,” he dryly laughs, giving your clit another chaste kiss. a cobwebby string of your translucent juices stick against his mouth as if its adhesive, sopping wet and sugary sweet. he’s nasty with his tongue, devouring you whole only to spit it right back onto your weeping pussy. “yeah, fuck my face, girl. don’t be shy, i like when ya get rough.”

not before long, you let out a shrilling orgasm, your vocal chords ripping raw as you gush all on his face. geto pats your pussy as if he’s telling it, telling it, telling her, ‘good job.’ he hums, giving it a final indecent suck before getting up. he’s lingering right over your twitching, defeated body, gawking at your dumbed down state before leaning in to kiss you.

his body, ripped and rough - tatted and burly, grinds against you before he slips two fingers inside of your pussy. “taste it,” he whispers, and you part your lips, throwing arms over his shoulders before relishing in your own juices. you were so dumb from him eating you out that it took you a while to realize he wanted you to kiss him, taste it that way. it was all on his tongue, once bitter now sweet and you take both of his fingers so easily. geto kisses you sloppily, exasperated breaths pouring into each mouth before he bites your lip. “turn around. wanna try a new position.”

“w- what position?” you heave, staring at him as you’re still breathless.

geto rolls his eyes, flipping you over himself. “the one where i put those useless legs of yours over your head. chop chop, girl. wanna test out that flexibility.”

CHOSO KAMO ★

“just .. lie back like that, mhm,” he’d coo, and you moan the moment he’s pressing his weight up against you. choso was warm, but his touch was even warmer. preposterously, his head’s spinning along with the mirroring subtle beats of his heart as he’s watching you flop down on your back. “m- may i?” he almost whines, so impatient—leaning in to nibble his teeth at your laced bra. you give him a nod and he almost moans. choso starts to feel a lake of saliva pool its way into his mouth as he’s now face first between your tits. his favorite girls, besides you. “so thirsty, ‘m gonna drink for a little.”

choso loved your breasts.

he also loved pretending milk would come out of them every time he latched his lips around your perky nipples.

“they always look s- so pretty for me.” he swallows the invisible lump in his throat, eyes peeping up at you. you give him a sheepish smile, holding his head upright and that’s when he shifts. choso grabs a nearby pillow, propping it right underneath his growing boner. softly, he unstraps your bra, letting it fall loose—not even bothering to fully take it off. it just hangs. as he gets a pillow, your brow raises before he starts to suck.

“f- fuck, ‘cho,” you whine out, feeling hot cloudy puffs of breath collide against your skin. you’re so sensitive, feeling a bit of teeth clash against each nipple. you could hear him breathing through his nose, irregular shattered breaths, slurping against each neglected tit. “that’s it baby, mhm, good boy,” and you feel a bit of movement. glimpsing down with blown irises, choso’s resolutely humping the pillow he brought between his legs. he’s whining, trying to bring attention to his heat but oh, the friction only makes it worse. he whimpers and whines with your tit in his mouth, lolling out his long tongue to savor your heavenly taste.

“ngh, m… mommy,” he babbles out, and he’s never called you that before. that was new, you felt your pussy throb behind your panties before he starts to ramble again and again. whenever he’s drunk off of you - he’s so talkative. “s- so good, ‘s sweet,” he grunts, his thrusts against the pillow turning more sloppy. it’s so hot that your skin practically sticks against the satiny sheets. and with choso, he’s just so fucking loud.

he can’t help it. he’s a whiner, straining his own voice at the expense of your syrupy taste. pretty sable lashes flutter against your skin as he’s still slurping each tit. he lowly groans, both hands wrapping around them both - gingerly fondling with each one. choso made sure to give each one all his attention, strands of sheeny crisscrossed drool trickling down past his lips, past his chin. “you’re bein’ messy, baby,” you hum softly, feeling him lean into your touch as you lift his chin up. a toothy love-drunk smile tugs against his lips as he stares up at you, reaching down to touch himself.

“s- sorry,” he hiccups, the speed of his hips accelerating. choso could barely even last because as he’s still got a mouth full of one of your luscious mounds, he gasps. it’s sharp, his breath gets stolen the moment he feels a certain dampness. it starts to coat the middle part of his darkened boxers, clenching his teeth in awe. “oh, ohmygod, ‘m cummin’, fuck.” and it’s so quick, he’s practically thrusting his hips into the pillow as if he’s actually fucking you. as he’s humping the pillow, he’s also humping your leg a bit, rutting back and forth until he whimpers. “s- shit, mommy ‘m makin’ a mess, fuuuuck me.”

as he’s still making out with your breasts, he glances at each nipple. all swollen and wet from his saliva. choso’s eyes almost roll back as he’s making a mess of himself, flustered entirely at the thought of cumming just from sucking on your tits. “mommy, huh?” you tease, running a thumb down his undercut as he buries his face into your chest. oh, he’s embarrassed.

“i.. i didn’t mean to call you that, ‘m sorry,” he grumbles, his voice almost inaudible with the way he’s just stuffed between your breasts. he’s still greedy though, licking and lapping his own shimmery spit that glissades down the crack of your chest. “soso sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you gently pull up his head, making him stare at you. he’s got a little pout, pretty pink lips curling into a downward scowl. “aw, you wanna suck them again, huh, choso?”

with a defeated nod, he sighs. “yeah, but- i just came ‘n i made a mess,” and your eyes peer down at his boxers with the faint grey stain exposing itself. so cute, choso lets out a tiny vexing puff of air before rubbing his neck in shame. “y- you made me cum jus’ from suckin’ on you.”

“don’t worry, ‘cho,” you purr, bringing him back toward your chest. your touch — so warm, he’d love to just stay like this forever. in your arms, sucking on your tits with the dumbest grin on his face, eyes closed. your words tenderly eased its way into his heart before you lie back, exhaling a drowsy sigh. he’s staring at you and he looks hungry, even still. choso’s panting, hovering over you so close that you feel the outline of his flaccid cock rub up against your thigh. “oh, you want more, don’t you?”

“n- no i want you,” he whimpers with a slight head shake, sprawling your legs apart. your eyes briefly widen at his gentle touch, feeling a few slender fingers ghost against your slavering cunt. choso kisses your right tit one more time, inching back up toward your face. “p- please.”

NANAMI KENTO ★

with nanami, he’s a freak in private.

after coming home from a long day at work, he just wants his pretty ‘lil wife. even a bonus, your sweet cunt that never fails to milk him dry every single time. “woah, love. don’t run from me, hey,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more smoother. you moan, feeling each stroke pivot its way so righteously into your soaked core. nanami watches with a coarse glint in his eye as you’re clinging onto the red-velvet sheets. your hands, they bawl within the fabric and you’re creating fists, not once releasing its tightening grip. his hips, they were simply hypnotic.

you’re feeling the stretching curve of his cock jackhammer into your drenched folds with such cinching effortlessness. mewl after mewl dies out of your throat as he’s making your drooling pussy beg for mercy. “don’t run, ‘m not done givin’ you a good fillin’ sweetheart,” and you could feel his hot cum pour its way out of your clenched hole. he’s already came inside before—but now, it was so much that it’s starting to spill out. dripping down your thighs and his favorite part is to just fuck it right back in. it’s so messy, you’re moaning out his name again and again as if it’s some catchy mantra. “atta girl, take it. taaake it.”

and you whine, your face practically being shoved into your pillow. softly though, the cottony fluff gets caught in your mouth and you let off a choking sob for more. “ken, mhhh, kento,” you croak, feeling him grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. oh, he always knew how to fuck you just right. you’re a mess and he’s always liked whenever his women was a bit sloppy. you were never a match for his hips, albeit they struck you deep. his fat cock ruthlessly delves into your cunt even deeper though—churning up your insides, having you clench around him tight. your spit-slicked lips kink up into a ghostly ‘o’ and you feel yourself about to break yet again. “not gonna last again, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kento, fuuuck.”

“c’mon, wifey. wanna f- feel you,” he huffs, piercing the pearly edges of his teeth into your the left blade of your shoulder. blond strands of hair run down his face. it’s shiiiiny, tears of sweat pouring down the edges of his forehead. you whine before feeling nanami take a brisk moment to wrap his tie around your wrist, having you in a secure firm grasp. “mhm, good girl. so good, fuck back against me, milk me sweetheart. uh huuuh.”

everything’s so sloppy, not just his hips but your pussy too. you gasp, feeling a sudden coil within you snap.

nanami’s got you arched over, tongue lolled out and eyes rolled back. just what he needed after a eight hour shift. your cunt always brings him the relaxation he needs, he could just live in it. you could barely even speak a proper sentence without a babbling cry wrenching out of your piteous vocal chords. “kento, i- i feel like ‘m gonna,” and you pause, another sharp gasp exiting out of your lungs. your lungs shake, teeth shattering and ears ringing before you feel a sudden gush. its impact has you delirious — you shake violently on his cock like a crazed animal before your jaw dangles open.

nanami groans, his own cock twitching inside before he realizes what happened. he hums, slowing his jagged hips down before caressesing your ass. he takes a moment, letting off a phew before relishing the sight of you bent over and on all fours for him. “oh, my oh my,” he murmurs in a soft gruff tone. its gruffness underneath makes you throb at least a million times. you’re an entire mess, spasming underneath him with his own heat sticking against yours. inches fucking deep, he brings a plump padded thumb towards your swollen cunt before leisurely pulling out. with a pop, he’s finally out of your sticky, greedy pussy. you’re drenched—clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout. as you’re still coming undone, he stares in awe at how you’re just coating the sheets entirety with your new sweet. you’re spraying out still as the seconds by and he can’t help but hum, a tender feeling waning its way into his heart — and an even more tender feeling warming its way between his legs. “my love, i didn’t know you were the squirtin’ type.”

your chest slumps back into the mattress from the literal nirvana you felt and you moan in ecstasy. with your orgasm still making its appearance, you feel a compacted tightening sensation within you snap.

it feels so good, soso good that your vision’s currently mainly made up of splotches of achromatic, bland colors. everything’s hot. dementedly, you shake underneath him before you feel his hand ghost down your spine. “k- kento, i—”

“shhh, let’s not speak right now, my sweet,” he shushes you, and you moan at the feeling of his fingers leisurely smearing your own candied juices back into you. your body couldn’t stay still and you’re just left there with your mouth hung open - brows curling together at the straight euphoria you just endured. “let’s hear what my other girl’s got to say,” he hums, and before you knew it, you’re flipped over, legs sprawled out with your tits bouncing from the unforeseen movement.

with fawn, gentle eyes staring straight at your soddened wet cunt, nanami licks his fingers clean before going up close to it. “she’s as wet as ever,” he whispers against your slit, giving it a kiss.

immediately, his lips were now glazed with your natural gloss. you’re breathing heavily each second at a time before yanking on his mousy, silk strands. “mhm, that’s it, get a nice pull,” and you moan once he lightly spanks your cunt, your legs growing limp and about to close. “gonna see how much wetter she can get for me,” and he whistles against your pussy, still staring at her and not you, you shudder from his breathy blow.

“isn’t that right, pretty?”

[tonycries]

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Synopsis. The question isn’t whether he can make you squírt - it’s how and where.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, squírting, unprotected, creampíe, exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s and Choso’s), bréeding, Shiu cameo, messy, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s thigh tattoos, thigh ríding chokíng, overstím, finger suckíng, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.1k

A/N. I think I’m in some early ovulation week because…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Prove it.

Now, does Toji know he’s the best you’ve ever had in bed? Of course.

Is he proud of how he’s done everything and anything - had you folded in half underneath him, stuffed from all ends, and cumming harder than any other loser before him did? Hell yeah. 

Does it bother him when Shiu makes some off-hand comment about how he’s able to make someone squirt? Well, it was hard not to when the man just laughs right in Toji’s dumbfounded face, saying something about how your pretty pussy is “missing out” and to come to Shiu if you want to have a good time.

Surely, that stupid conversation doesn’t bother him, right? Right?

Wrong. 

He was going to prove that bastard Shiu wrong. 

“Damn. Not that one either.”

If you could, you’d probably let out a sob - but right now, you’re too cockdrunk to even think let alone cry. Unsure if you’re even breathing as Toji wrestles your limp body - still twitching and sensitive from your nth high - upright on his lap. Whispering a ragged, “Guess we just hafta try again. Right, doll?”

“Please!” you let out a strangled yelp as Toji’s big hands snake down to steady your hips, all stuttering and messily sucking up his aching cock. Again. “I-I don’t think I can- ah-”

Whatever plea on the tip of your tongue is shut up by Toji pulling your teary face towards his, kissing your swollen lips so softly. Reverent, even. 

The complete opposite of his hips down below, not even bothering to move anymore, hands on your ass just dragging your sloppy pussy up and down his swollen dick. Up and down up and down up and-

“Toji–”

“Aww, c’mon, pretty.” Toji groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he spreads your puffy folds further, bullying his cock so impossibly deep. “G-gotta prove it to that f-fucker that I’m the best, right?”

Ah, there it was - if you were in any better state of mind you’d have cursed out Shiu already. Taunting your boyfriend into this stupid little challenge that had him storming into your apartment and ripping off your poor panties. And you split apart on his cock and cumming over and over again like he wouldn’t - couldn’t - stop until you squirted. Like it killed him to make you miss out on this little thing. 

“Now now, doll.” you jolt as he gives your sopping pussy a little smack! Grinning at your nails digging into his thick shoulders, “Focus. Hah- we gotta have her squirtin’ all over me now, right?”

You really can’t help the way you’re giving him a delirious little nod. Hips bouncing back pathetically in an attempt to meet the way Toji was bouncing you so sinfully on his cock like his favorite toy. And it’s so cute that Toji’s murmuring a low, “Use your words, doll.”

“I- ngh-”

Not like he was giving you a chance to, rolling your ravaged clit between his fingers, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “Louder.”

“Gonna- gonna squirt for you, Toji…”

If he was any lesser man (Shiu) Toji thinks he might’ve just cum in your snug pussy right then and there. Filled you up till you’re bloated and forgetting any promise of squirting - but no, that’s for later. 

Right now, he’s flattening his feet on the mattress, falling onto his back - two big arms pulling your overstimulated body to rest against his muscles. Not even wasting a second before fucking up into your tight cunt like such an animal.

Sloppy - so, so desperate. 

Just rough, jagged movements of his hips because shit if Toji doesn’t make you squirt this time then he’s gonna lose his sanity. Might’ve already lost it, actually, with each adorable ah! ah! ah! falling from your kiss-bitten lips each time he hits that one spot so easily. 

“Bit- bit more-” he grits out, feeling that familiar way your plushy walls were trying to squeeze him dry. Your cunt too heavenly. The stimulation too much. “Jus’ a bit more, pretty.”

“Oh my god- Toji- ah- Toji Toji Toji-” It’s all you can do to whine, writhing as he holds your hips still, rocking harder into you. Clawing at the soaked sheets, his shoulders, his hair - anything to try and hold onto whatever semblance of control you had left. “M’so- close-”

“Yeah?” And Toji sounds so utterly wrecked already, looking up at you with glassy, half-lidded eyes. Voice strained, awe-struck like he couldn’t even believe it. His pretty girl - cumming for him again. “Squirt f’me, doll.”

You don’t even realize it when you are at first - just that something snaps and suddenly you’re soaking Toji’s cock in all your sweet sweet juices. Until it was dripping down the side, onto the mattress. 

So messy and sinful - gummy walls squeezing his dick so fucking tight it almost hurt, covering his abs till they were glistening. Toji can’t bring himself to do anything but watch, for once in his life actually grateful that Shiu goaded him into doing something. Jaw-dropped at the way you’re gushing all around him - like you couldn’t stop. Again and again and-

“S-see? Fuck- What- oh shit, doll. All f’me? Good girl.” Eyeing that phone propped up by the bedside, Shiu’s face watching over the obscene mess on the bed. “What did I tell ya?”

“Heh, well whatever. Can ya make her do it twice?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Love is blind

Now, it’s not often that Nanami Kento took off his glasses. Rarely when he cuddled, not usually when he was kissing you - his pretty lil’ wife. And never when it was your lips down below that he was making out with.

“So messy.” Nanami mutters, muffled around your puffy folds. Each word making you arch against the soft mattress. “Are you this messy just f’me? M’so lucky, my love.”

It’s all you can do to yelp as Nanami slides his tongue warningly between your folds, flicking at your swollen clit just enough to have you gripping so tightly at his blond strands. Pulling Nanami’s face up from between your thighs with a strained groan.

And oh you assumed he was exaggerating, but it was so fucking difficult to look at Nanami, too. Glasses slightly foggy, cheeks flushed. Your sweet juices glossing his lips so prettily, dripping all the way down his jaw. Head tilting back ever-so-slightly to let it slide down his throat.

Making your head spin as he reaches over to press a chaste, wet peck to your lips. “Jus’ let me take care of it.”

And take care of it he does. Immediately taking his favorite place in-between your legs, stuffing his face nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue giving one, long lick up your folds, just barely dipping between them. The slow torture was delicious. 

“Kento-.” you let out a pouty little whine, one that goes straight to Nanami’s aching cock. Ankles hooking around his broad shoulders to pull him impossibly closer, “D-don’t tease.”

He’s letting out such a dark chuckle, hot against your sloppy hole. Awe-struck at the way you’re glistening and clenching around nothing - so much so that Nanami almost considers taking off those tinted glasses to see this heavenly view better. 

But no, instead, he’s breathing out a little, “Fine.” Interrupting your soft sigh of relief to continue, “But you better not get my hah- glasses dirty, darling.”

Nanami doesn’t wait for your response - he doesn’t have to. Already knowing that you’ll be giving him a delirious little nod in agreement. So he’s digging his neat fingernails into your hips, pulling you closer to spread your lips with his tongue. Lapping so obscenely at the slick beading at your cunt over and over and-

It wasn’t enough.

“Shit. Fuck-” you flinch - maybe from those depraved little profanities hissed into your cunt. Maybe from the cold metal of his glasses hitting your heated core. Probably from the way Nanami was bullying his soft tongue into your tight pussy.

Pushing past that feeble resistance, one hand reaching behind to arch your deeper into his mouth. The other toying with your sensitive clit. Rolling the nub between two long fingers while he dips in and out of your hole at such a ruthless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck, Kento-” you’re grabbing at the expensive sheets so hard you worry they might tear. Thighs shaking and sliding off his shoulders. “S’too much- too deep.”

And ah, for how much Nanami pretends to be annoyed as he wraps your legs back around his head - it sends all the blood in his body rushing straight to his cock at how wrecked his cute wife was.

Moaning around your entrance, “Remember what I mm- said.” Your juices starting to drip down the corners of his mouth now. “Get it dirty and-”

“Kento! Oh my god-” You buck wildly as he starts drawing lewd little circles on your clit. Nanami’s little warnings the last thing on your mind as you feel yourself losing more and more of your sanity with each drip! drip! drip! of your slick down onto the mattress below. 

Glasses completely fogged now, he makes out with your cunt through pure, feral need. Tongue matching in time with each yelp of his name leaving your mouth. 

“F-fuck.” Nanami’s smacking his lips against your own. “You taste so good. So heavenly.” Your gummy walls sucking him up so sinfully that it was almost difficult to move faster, more erratic. “Gonna make a mess f’me now? Gonna hah-” 

And, well, you did always manage to surprise him.

Because Nanami doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, before your slutty pussy is gushing all around him. 

Everywhere. Making such a mess as he tonguefucks you through your high, letting you use and angle his mouth all you wanted. So so sloppy with the way you’re soaking him in all your juices - down his chin, his tongue, all the way up to his sharp cheekbones and even-

“My glasses.” Head so fucked-out already, you almost miss Nanami’s dangerous little mutter. Raising your eyes to meet his and oh. Shit. “You dirtied my glasses.”

As if to prove his point, Nanami them off, running a long finger down his frames. Slowly. Agonizingly. Pooling all your sweet slick on his fingertips, so tauntingly inspecting it in the dim lighting. 

In a split-second, those dripping wet glasses are resting on the bridge of your nose, forcing you to peer over them at a dangerously looming Nanami.

“Told ya not to dirty my glasses, my love.” Smiling so dangerously, “Think this naught cunt of yours should be taught a lesson for that.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Favorite part

Geto thinks that this might be his favorite part, whispering a ragged little, “God, do you know how pretty you hah- look right now?”

You didn’t - and it’s all you can do to even try and understand what your boyfriend was even cooing from behind. Too caught up in the way your legs were so pathetically trembling with the need to bounce back on his swollen cock. 

“Hngh- f-fuck Sugu- I-”

Sure to leave such lewd little marks for Geto to ogle at tomorrow, his toned pelvis against your ass, heavy balls on your clit, fingers on your hips to steady your fucked-out self. Sloppy - bruising, even. 

So it only made sense that your high was the same - and he can only watch, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown, jaw falling slack in disbelief at the way your cunt was just gushing all around him. Fucking him over and over through your high. 

“Shit- shit shit shit.” you hear him breathe, fingers toying with your pretty clit desperately. “Jus’ like that. Good girl.”

Your sweet sweet juices soaking his painfully hard cock, dripping down, down, down his heavy balls, glistening against his thighs. Squirting so obscenely around his twitching cock and shit- he just can’t help but go over the edge as well. 

“Oh- oh god.” Geto throws his head back, giving you one, harsh thrust before he’s spilling all into your quivering cunt. Coating your walls such an obscene white, “This pussy is ngh- magic, gorgeous. Fucking love her.”

Loved how you were squeezing him so tight. 

Loved how you were so messy. 

Loved how it made him think that you could squirt all over his dick again. 

And he can’t stop - couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Hips still moving in quick, ragged jabs to your poor cervix, eyeing the way your poor, abused pussy was still drooling all around him. A lewd little mess of slick and cum, forming a pool on the sheets below. 

And Geto can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted - why would he? After all, this was his favorite part, right? 

“You can mm- gimme another one, right?” You shiver as he flattens his feet on the damp mattress, kissing up your arched spine. Keening at the change in angle as his cock bullies impossibly deeper. Stars behind your eyes at how unfairly easily he finds that one spot. “Your slutty pussy’s gonna s-squirt all over me again?” Fat head hitting it over and over and-

“Suguru!” you squeal, and Geto raises his brows. Knowing you were absolutely fucking wrecked already - you never called him by his full name until you were fucked so dumb you couldn’t remember his nickname. “S’too- much. M’too ngh- sensitive.”

Your hands reach out to grab for the headboard - nails digging into the wood. Geto’s throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls so agonizingly that you almost miss him mutter a quiet, “Now, that won’t do.”

And before you know it, his big hands are prying yours off the bed, intertwining them so gently with his. Romantic - but you knew better, Geto just didn’t want his pretty girl to run away. 

Not when he knew you were so close - could tell by that breathy little ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips. 

“Please-”

Huffing in amusement, “Please what?”

And you don’t even know what you’re begging for - maybe for mercy? For Geto to let you fucking breathe? His cock too bruising against your cunt, drawing out incoherent whines with each drag of his tip down all the right spots. Trying so desperately to fuck that second orgasm out of you. 

“Heh, can’t even fuck- talk.” And it’s so dizzing how he’s puncturing each word with such a rough ram of his cock. So mean with the way he dips a hand lower to graze a long finger down your sensitive cunt - so messy and sensitive. Chuckling at your cute lil’ whines - at the way they’re suddenly cut short when Geto shoves his dripping wet fingers between your lips. “Ngh- well, if you don’t wanna talk…”

Close. Too close. 

You mewl at the way he was pressing right at the back of your tongue, feeling the lewd little taste of him and you and him. “Mmmpf- what are you-” 

“At least don’t try to escape, gorgeous.” he leans in close - so close. Long inky hair tickling your spine, breath hot against your ear, lips grazing yours. You think you could just pass out right then and there as his soft tongue darts out to lick at the mess he’s smeared across your glossy lips. 

Grinning at the taste, at that look in your eyes that told him your cute cunt was about to give him another show, “Cuz this is my favorite part.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Hair tie

If anyone found out why Choso Kamo was never seen without that black hair tie around his wrist, they’d laugh in your face and tell you what a great joke that was. 

That inconspicuous little thing he’d take around everywhere, whether he had his hair up or not. It’s not like he exactly needed it, and most just assumed it was a fashion statement. 

Only you knew what it meant to have Choso thumbing that little red imprint in public. Hooking a finger underneath, pulling back ever-so-slightly to let it snap! against his skin. Looking you right in the eyes as he does. Something dangerous. Subtle. Something that has you pressing your thighs together. 

Something that has him pulling you to the nearest changing room in this crowded shopping mall, one hand covering your mouth, muffling your sweet sweet moans. The other, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt.  

“Sorry, baby.” he gasps, kissing your forehead so mockingly gently. “You just looked so fuckin’ pretty in that skirt. Needed you so- hah- bad.”

The skirt that was currently bunched at your waist, crumpling at Choso pushes you harder against the cool wall. 

But Choso couldn’t give a fuck about that right now, not as he shoves a knee between your trembling legs. He couldn’t have his girl falling now, right? Long fingertips so desperately massaging your plushy walls, searching for that one-

“Mmpfh! Hngh-”

Found it.

Without another word, he’s reeling two fingers back - all the way until they were barely kissing your sloppy hole. Plunging back in, hitting that spot over and over like he was addicted to the way your cunt was trying to suck him up so good. High off of every cute lil’ whine that escapes through his palm. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ gorgeous.” Breath hot against your ear, “Look.” 

You barely even realize it before you are, gasping at the obscene sight below. Your drenched panties pulled so lazily to the side. Sloppy. 

“Can’t get enough. Shit-” Pulling back to show off your slick glistening on his fingers, dripping down, down, down to that sinful hair tie. “Fuuuck, baby. Need you to cum on my fingers. Please. Please-” Puffy folds milking Choso’s fingers so hard that you wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether his wrist wasn’t cramping up now, fingers sore. 

And if they were, then, Choso didn’t show it. Instead, he’s bullying a third finger inside your poor cunt, the stretch too much that you can’t help but squeal. So fucking loud. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Is everything alright in there, ma’am?”

Oh if the way your heavenly cunt was clenching around him was anything to go by, then Choso wished he did this sooner. 

So entranced that he almost missed the concerned, “Ma’am?” from outside. 

“Wh-what’s the matter, baby?” he whispers lowly, biting down teasingly at your earlobe. Fingers still relentless, speeding up, even. And you could only pray the employee outside couldn’t hear the lewd squelches as he did. “Shy? Answer the hah- question.”

And shit, you could cry as he wrenches his hand away from your mouth. Grinning as you let out a broken little, “Y-yeah.” Cringing at how unconvincing you sound, “I’m jus-”

Whatever stupid excuse that was to come out of your mouth dies in your throat as Choso runs his thumb over your throbbing clit. 

“I-I’m al-right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And it’s as if he takes that up as a challenge to prove you’re so utterly not. 

Not when Choso’s drawing tight little circles in time with the way he’s hitting that one spot, arching you like such a slut into his touch. Ignoring the concerned remarks from outside as he speeds up his pace, not even bothering to cover your mouth this time because he wanted to hear all your pretty moans. 

So much so that you’re mentally preparing to get caught - maybe even arrested. 

But still you’re so close. 

Halfway through imagining how Choso would snap his hair tie during the trial when that voice speaks up again. “Well…please let us know if you need any help.”

Those footsteps from outside barely even heading away before he’s sighing, “She’s gone now.” he bites down on your lower lip. “Y’can hah- cum f’me, y’know? Make a mess?” Grinding down his rock-hard erection on your thigh, already so damp through his pants. “Fucking cover me in it.”

And then you are - all over Choso’s hand. Kissing him hard, to stop yourself from screaming as he quirks his fingers just right. Fucking you through your high as you drench him in all your juices, soaking his hair tie, trailing onto the floor in a lewd drip! drip! drip! 

Obscene. Exactly the way he wanted it. 

So fucking pretty with the way you’re squirting all over his hand, thighs trembling, lips wobbling. That new skirt of yours so filthy now that Choso can’t help but eye the pile of clothes right next to you. Gritting out a ragged, “We got so many more clothes to try on.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - X marks the spot

“You’re going to cum f’me just like this, okay, brat?”

Maybe it’s the way you’re sat so prettily on Sukuna’s muscular thigh, squirming ever-so-slightly as he starts bouncing his leg to the beat of the thumping music. Maybe it’s the way you can’t do anything but let out a stifled gasp, desperately trying not to attract any attention towards the two of you in the dimly-lit VIP area of this overcrowded club.

But Sukuna just can’t help but tease you. 

Can’t help but trail a finger along your thigh, goosebumps rising so deliciously at the scrape of his nail. Up, up, up to confirm his suspicious and oh- 

He was right. No panties.

“Heh, such a naughty little minx, aren’t ya?” he can’t help the surprise that bleeds into his voice, pulling your back flush against his chest. Cradling your neck into his pecs, “Acting all innocent but you’re just begging to be used like such a slut, huh?”

The clink of a belt, and suddenly you’re feeling a sliver of skin - warm. Soft, sat right above where you knew he had that sinful little tattoo. 

“B-but Kuna-” you flinch as the cold air hits you before you know it. Looking over your shoulder to catch that fucking smug smirk as Sukuna flips your flimsy skirt to rest your dripping cunt on his bare thigh. And to anyone else, it would probably just look like you’re just seated on his lap. But you gasp, “Here?”

“Why not?”

If anyone heard your broken whine, then you didn’t have the courage to raise your head and look. Hazy eyes locked with Sukuna’s as he starts rocking you on his thigh. Fingers digging into your hips, dragging your sloppy pussy. Grip tight, bruising almost - like he was trying to hold himself back from doing anything more. 

“Aww, my messy girl.” And fuck if it wasn’t difficult to not just fuck you right then and there with the way your puffy folds were spread on his thigh. Drooling all the way down to the gaudy couch below. “Who’re you this wet for?”

But Sukuna’s skin against your was so hot. Your brain too foggy. His words too mean. And you can’t help but let out some incoherent babble.

One that has him wrapping a hand around your neck, nails positioned right above your racing pulse, forcing you to blink tearily up at him. “Sorry, pretty. Can’t hear you above this fuckin’ music.” Biting down on your earlobe - just a little punishment, “What were you sayin’?”

“Ngh- f-fuck-” you moan, clit catching on the curves and dips of his muscles, rippling as he bounces you faster in time with your slutty lil’ movements. “Only for ngh- you.”

Voice such a low purr in your ear now, “Who?”

“Y-you, Kuna-”

“Yeahhhh, fuck.” he grunts, angling his head just right to better take in the fucking heavenly view. Back arching, swollen folds spread so shamefully as you hump him like some bitch in heat. Making such a mess all over his thigh tattoo in a way that makes Sukuna so fucking glad he got it. “S’exactly what I like to hear.”

And God, he didn’t even have to tell you for you to realize. Because you could feel the way his rock-hard cock jumps against his boxers - so rock-hard and pressing up against your ass in a damp patch. 

One hand tightening around your throat, the other dipping below to draw urgent, messy little circles on your clit. Over and over. 

You dare to crack an eye open and look at the room around you, hips still grinding down so pathetically on his thigh. Clenching down so hard on nothing as you wonder how someone - anyone - could see the two of you and-

“Oi, look at me, brat.” he’s tugging your head up to his again. Hands getting more erratic - like he wanted to distract you from anything but him him him. “Focus on me. On how fucking good this pretty pussy is feeling.”

As if you could do anything but.

Bucking softly into his angry erection, causing Sukuna to let out a low, drawn-out hiss. “Evil lil’ thing.” he drags his lips down your sensitive neck. Pulling your hips harder against that tattoo. “Guess it ngh- makes sense though because…” you blink up tearily at him as he trails off. Barely noticing the trembling in his fingers, both your rhythms getting so sloppy. Untimed. As rough as the look in Sukuna’s eyes as he whispers, “-because you’re mine.”

And then he spits - right into yout waiting mouth. Once. Twice. 

Loud enough that it definitely makes a few stray onlookers glance, faces immediately burning at the sight of Sukuna kissing you. Just a messy clash of lips and teeth and tears.

Tears as you cum with a strangled gasp, drunk up so greedily by Sukuna as you squirt all over his thigh. So fucking messy. Seeping into his pants, all the way down to the couch below, but especially his tattoo. That ring of ink soaked in your juices - right where Sukuna wanted.

And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have been embarrassed - shy, even.

Instead, you’re glancing down at the way his thigh was glistening in the dim light, delicate strings of slick snapping as you lean back closer. 

“Don’t you have- hah- the same tattoo on your cock, too, Kuna?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sweeter this way

“Such a filthy cunt on my sweet, sweet girl.” Gojo has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh - at how breathless and fucked out you were on top of him already. “C’mon, what ngh- happened to taking control?”

Ah, right - you bat your lashes lazily, blinking away the tears in your eyes to be met with that fucking smug smirk on your boyfriend’s face. So much for taking control tonight.

“Y-you’re a ngh- cheater, Toru.” you hiss, but you can’t stop your hips from grinding down so pathetically to meet with his rough pace. Jolting every time his leaking tip hit that one spot. “It was s’pposed to be hah- m-my turn to take charge.”

And oh how you had the strongest whining underneath you, two big arms looping around your waist to pull you against his toned chest. 

“But, sweetheart~” Craning his neck to graze his lips against your bruised ones - so fleeting, gentle. Exactly what his hips weren’t. “Isn’t it s-so much sweeter this way?”

You don’t know what it is about it - maybe at the dangerous little tone dripping from Gojo’s words. Maybe at the way each one was punctured by a messy, harsh thrust into your tight pussy. But it has shivers running down your spine - all the way to your bulging cunt, so stuffed and ravaged by his cock. 

Words a bit more breathless than you’d have liked as you mutter, “W-what do you oh fuck- Toru. What do you mean ‘sweet’?”

The only response you get is one hand pushing the hair out of his eyes, the other just bruising on your hips. Pulling you up, up, up on Gojo’s swollen cock like you were weightless, the arms in his biceps rippling when Gojo slams you down. Hard. 

Toned pelvis hitting your ass as he rams his cock into you. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“M’gonna show ya.” he grins, free hand roling your poor clit between two fingers. “Gonna show ya how much sweeter fuck-” Gojo’s eyes fly open as you clench so hard around him. On purpose - a warning. “Hah, feisty. But just you wait. M’gonna show ya.”

Having you feeling more and more like some curse he’s out to vanquish with the way he’s fucking you so merciless.

“Merciless?” Gojo cocks his head in a way that almost makes you forget to realize that oh, shit you said that out loud. “Mhm, sure did.” he hums, in a tone that was way too proud of himself. “N’ you h-haven’t even seen the ngh- best of it.”

You were getting impatient now - and so was Gojo. 

For all his talk, letting you grind your hips down to meet his rough cadence. So difficult with the way the man was getting impossibly faster. Sloppier. 

The look in his eyes is so feral. His hands so unforgiving, pushing your knees further apart. So erratic on your clit, drawing quick, messy little patterns in a way that has you wondering whether this is more for you or himself. 

He’s whispering, like a mantra now. “Gonna show ya- gonna show hah- fuck- m’gonna.” Running only on this and the way you were sucking him up so obscenely. Clit throbbing so fast under his thumb in a way he knew that it was about to be- “Now.”

As if on command, you cum. And not just any orgasm - no, when Gojo Satoru is out to prove a point, he will prove it five times over. Which is why he has you squirting like such a slut all over his rock-hard cock. 

“Oh- f-oh my god. Toru!”

Gojo’s own orgasm just a quick, sharp spike of pleasure, coating your puffy walls an obscene white before he’s pushing your limp body further back to get a better view and shit- 

That only has you gushing around him harder. So animalistically. Dick twitching wildly at the slick glistening all over Gojo’s abs, dribbling down, down, down to those tufts of white at his base. Some reaching his parted lips, and fuck if Gojo can stop himself from running his tongue along them.

Running a finger at the lewd pool on his abs before bringing them up to his mouth, “Oh, baby.” Eyes half-lidded, miles away yet still boring right into yours as he licks up his dripping wet index with a lewd groan. Pooling your sinful juices on his tongue. Heady. Addictive. “See? Sweeter this way.”

Your jaw drops into a soft oh! as Gojo pulls away with a lewd pop! looking like it fucking killed him to do so. 

Strings of slick connecting to those pretty pink lips, snapping ever so slightly as he murmurs a dark, “Wonder if it’ll be twice as sweet if I cum twice in your pretty pussy, hm?”

A/N. Hope y’all have a good day.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[conditioned-to-obey]

I want to sink my teeth into your shoulder as I rut into you. Feeling your tight cunt throb as the dull pain distracts you from my fingers sliding between your thighs. Rubbing your swollen clit in time with my thrusts, grinding the tip into your g-spot just because I like the way your pussy tightens and tries to suck my cock in deeper.

"don't even think about it, cunt."

You beg me to slow down or else you might slip over the edge and cum without permission, might ruin your weeks of meticulous edging. I know. I keep going anyway.

I know it's hard. I'm pounding your dripping cunt too rough, sucking bruises into your flesh between my teeth. I hump harder into you, wrapping my arm around your throat to pull you down onto me.

The image of you in my head has blurred into something else. Now you're nothing but this. This drooling, tear stained, sobbing mess. Fucked out, eyes rolling back. You're not a person anymore. You're a puppy in heat. A human fuckdoll. A living Fleshlight that squeals and drips and spasms around my cock.

Funny enough, "don't you dare fucking cum" grunted into your ear is what makes you gasp and shudder. Your body releasing weeks of built up tension and frustration. I feel it too, you gushing around my cock. You came without permission, just like I wanted you to. Didn't it feel good? Being bad, breaking your streak, losing control like a feral little animal? It's pathetic. I'm addicted to it. It's okay, you can blame your failure to control your desperate needy cunt on me.

I know, you just couldn't hold it huh? Shush now, it's alright. It was so intense huh? That's why you're quivering even as you beg and apologize over and over. You're so cute, how can I stay mad at you?

Not to worry, doll. We'll just edge you for even longer next time. It takes time to get used to these things, after all.

[anantaru]

HSR + HOT THINGS HE DOES WHILE DOING IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, dr ratio, sunday, boothill x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, dom hsr characters, oral (fem! receiving) & fingering, established relationship, hitting it raw, dirty talk, tit play + biting & marking, prone bone ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱ + shamelessly moans into your ears

his moans have that kind of power that attack you with the lightest bit of touch but rumble inside your nerves with an utmost generosity that continued to burn an everlasting need into the rigid twist of your belly. he flips you over to your stomach and kneads the handful of flesh on your ass, greedily as his hands retreat— now, he uses his hand to keep your hips sealed against his aching half, while the other was positioned next to your head to refrain his weight from leaning and crushing against you.

aventurine's mouth was hot against your ear, too hot, in fact, that your body manifests swells of electric jumps on your limbs and muscles, your blood thrumming as you're audibly hissing out petulant sobs through your slacked jaw.

"tell me how it feels, yeah?" he sighs between gritted teeth, savoring the anticipation as his eyes squeeze shut, hips aligned and drawing his oozy tip against your entrance before pressing into your hole.

"ugh, fuck—" he grunts, "you'll mess me up today, hm?" as he moans deeply into your ear, so grateful to you as you shakily exhale through your mouth, your hole melting around his thick shaft before he inches further through your plushy walls.

aventurine was unashamed of gasping out those lecherous noises for you, brazen to the point where he's telling you how you feel as you squeeze him and cloud his mind with your milking compression indulging in him, "aah— you feel so nice, so soft, i'm losing my mind," he cheekily laughs between his whines, feeling elevated.

he kisses your neck as you sob, your walls feeling all of him inside as you exhale between a shaken embrace— but it's telling how much it turned you on when your boyfriend was this vocal with the pleasure you caused on him, his tongue darting across your neck before he loudly groans into the skin, your hole tensing and letting go, tensing and letting go, adding pressure again.

your eyes roll back as he grinds himself in you, always holding against your ass to fondle with the skin as he repeatedly pressures and pulls his cock through your creamy hole, entering all his inches inside an eager cuddle.

the sensation of having him claim your body in such way made your stomach do flips and tumbles, and the hums into your ear only multiplied the ways you responded to him with fizzy tears pulling at your lashes. right there, aventurine spills his brazen moans right against your ear, shamelessly between affectionate words of love, sending your inmost nerves into hard overdrive.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱ + pulls your face to him before you climax

before he advances forward to his original plan, veritas will make you feel like you're mounting off pleasure and ah, your silhouette was charming to look at, no? you're so sweet when you hide your face from him. yet he doesn't understand why you're so embarrassed to show your flustered state? regardless, he loves when you do that, hiding the real taste, doesn't matter if he's suckling on your clit or watching how you suck him off, you're always warding off his enticing gaze.

the tantalizing signs of your embarrassment were enough for dr ratio to focus on all the different regions of your body— not only that, but he inspects your breathing and how it shudders through you, not to mention how it hitches when he grinds into your cunt.

with that, he can determine that you prefer it faster, although mixed in with a couple slow grinds once he's sheathed himself fully inside. a combination of both can do a lot more, and channeling it into one was his speciality. you're making it just that easy for him.

you wonder why? well, it's because you make everything look so sexy that it's so easy to figure you out.

after finding the perfect tempo for the both of you, your warmth clamps around him before losing yourself in each precise, calculated push of his hips overloading from the feeling of being close to you, or ah, being one with you, correct? it's how you're throbbing and creaming his entire base full that he realizes you're right there, feeling an upcoming wave of pleasure making itself visible.

"i'm cumming, i'm, aah, fuck," you moan beneath his hypnotizing pair of eyes as his hips rush through you, spreading your poor, little cunt apart as your hole flexes around his shaft. veritas knew he had to be quick with it, so after hearing you sob and wince, he draws himself off your neck and cups your face roughly, casting his eyes on you.

the man was gorgeous and he knew it, much to your dismay— he could also be a total idiot about how annoyingly handsome he was and that he always knew how to use it to his benefit— although in this moment, his face was soused in his sweat, messed up around his forehead and covered with fizzling lust for you.

a strangled cry rips from your throat and vibrates through his eardrums as your body vividly shakes under him. you're whimpering at the embarrassment of having him look at you while he's forcing the eye contact with his hand bending around the softness of your cheek.

you had no idea how much of a difference it made to look at him and become so, vulnerable.

you squirm under his searing silhouette, crying out the most beautiful sounds as your sore hole twitching around the base, utterly spent as veritas only admires the glow in your eyes, nothing more and nothing else.

the two of you exhale shakily in your afterglow, wet skin clinging to the sheet and relishing in its dirtiness.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱ + kisses your clit before going down on you

he holds himself back, he needs to, because fighting the urge to bury his face where you needed him the most was always worth it— before he latches on your clit, he uses his rough thumbs to push the plushy skin protecting your clit aside to plant his plump lips over it, ghosting his mouth on top as he's almost successful enough to distract you from two digits bumping against your weeping hole.

sunday adjusts his face on your pussy before planting a wet kiss on your clit, his lusting eyes turning dark in the dark light as he roams two fingers inside your cloying hole, "give it to me, i know you can do it," he takes each necessary step to make you arch your back and gush all over him— your bothered silhouette making his cock ache and balls throb in his boxers.

his digits ascend over the slopes of your velvet walls as he presses delirious sensations on your cunt before spitting on your pussy repeatedly, messily grinning against your folds when you wince to every single droplet of his saliva hitting your cunt.

what doesn't come as a surprise is that sunday likes being messy with it— he needs to feel the wetness, the sheer contact of a hot tongue on your throbbing skin that he asks himself, can you feel it too? oh silly, of course you can, there was no room for debate by how you're reacting to it.

he swallows your arousal pooling on his tongue as he laps at your clit while his fingers graze along the sponginess of your walls, your pussy holding and clenching around the two digits. your eyes were half lidded, almost closed, your body so responsive that your cunt pulses at nothing but the tip of his tongue nudging into your clit.

"so obedient you are, my dear," he rasps before your fingers slope around the loose strands of his hair to press him into your heat, your back arching and your cunt spasming as you ride his face.

sunday hums happily, satiated, "what a good girl you are," he praises you enlaced in a wanton voice, thrusting his fingers roughly as you cum inside a silent cry.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱ + teases you with his teeth

your saccharine alike face prompts a menacing grin from him as he settles you on his lap before tilting your head a little— his eyes drizzling into the space on your neck and how he could feel your heart beat from that precious spot. boothill tests the waters, his insatiable hunger for you being so painful as he sighs out excitedly. he grazes into your neck and drags the sharp edges through your sensitive skin— always holding you on his waist with one hand wrapped around while the other toyed with your soft tits.

boothill has everything under his control, okay? you needn't worry— in fact, he always tells you to not torment yourself when all you had to do was trust him with your pleasure.

a smile stretches across his face as he brazenly flattens his tongue against your neck, feeling your pulse thud on the wet muscle before squeezing your tits to mess up your focus. you cling to his strong shoulders as you arch your back when he rolls a nipple between his digits, "you like that, don't you?" he drawls, your moan bending when he pinches your tit again.

your eyes roll back, and ugh, it feels so good, his rough yet precise touches were capable to induce waves of sparks from your breasts to all the way down, hitting your aching pussy. you're humping against his thigh and drool, more so stain your panties with your slick. the swell of his bulge was heavily pressing against your clothed folds, and boothill knew it wouldn't take long until you'll beg him to fuck you.

alongside those mesmerizing touches that marked up your breasts, the man took his time and acted unhurriedly as he sucks on your neck, shielding his eyes as he dips his head right above your collarbones. your skin mists with drops of his saliva as you find his hair beneath your hands, tugging slightly at his strands.

boothill moans into your neck, the vibrations setting a fire on your wet core, "let me consume you..." you hear him murmur playfully, his sharp fangs tauntingly pressing into your neck as you arch your back, "pretty, mh, you're so good, so lovely, so pretty, and ugh," as he stammers, his tongue blazing wildly across the pulsing spot that he's bitten, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he calls your name.

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