#sure hes a dick but he did not deserve that

[kanekisfavoritegf]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR. NANAMI:

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: It's your husbands birthday, he deserves a break, and you the loving wife just happen to be more than willing to help relax.

Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER TO EVER EXIST OMG AHHHHHHHHHHH

WORD COUNT: 1.07K

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Nanami.”

Your husband sat legs spread with his bulge in full view. It poked up, stretching the fabric of his black work pants uncomfortably. 

He knew you would pull something like this, so scandalous, so perfect, so sexy. 

You stood there in your kitchen in perfect black lingerie; your face beat to the gods, your cunt wetter than ever.

His eyes were dark and fixed on you; he sat leaning forward, his body beginning to touch you. But he couldn’t. 

He was tied, arms behind him with your lacy panties. Wet from your slick.

“Are you sure this is a present for me?” He asked, eyebrow raised and tongue swiping across his lips, watching you stalk towards him like a panther going in for the kill.

“Why, of course, Husband.” He shuddered at the title; he loved it when you called him husband more than anything. Because to him, he was your husband before he was Nanami Kento. If he had it his way on his gravestone, it would just be “Y/n’s Doting husband.”

You stood in between his spread legs, giving him a delicate kiss on his lips before dropping to your knees and taking a long, slow strip at his pulsating dick.

“Oh, baby.” He gasped at your tongue. Smiled before doing it again, this trim with a flatter tongue and more pressure.

“Jesus.” You felt him tug at your underwear. “Put your mouth around it, baby.” He groaned, the vein in his neck popping out a little as he took in a big gulp.

“If that’s what the birthday boy wants.”

Listening to your husband’s wishes, you warped your lips around his girth and began to suck softly, just at his blushing mushroom tip, though. As your mouth filled with his salty precum, you moaned, causing him to hiss at the sensation. Still, you sucked on, relishing in the feeling of his excitement.

You sank lower and lower onto his dick, letting it hit the back of your throat. You didn’t let a single complain or grunt as he began fucking up with his hips, it was his day, and you were okay with being used by him. 

He fell apart more and more as the seconds went by; sweat dripped from his head and landed on your shoulders, his pants becoming harsher and harder, and you could hear his relentless tugging at the fabric that stopped him from grabbing your head.

“Oh, just like that,” He moaned, “Fuuuuck. God, your mouth is dangerous.” He groaned, head thrown back, lost in his own pleasure. “You treat me so good, baby. Fuck I’m going to cum.” He said in what seemed like a broken sob/whine. 

You couldn’t help but moan at the prospect of him cumming. Which only ushered his climax in faster.

He thrust up one final time, a loud, broken moan following. His cum filled your mouth and dribbled down your cheek. You did your best to swallow it all, and Kento let out a satisfied moan. 

“Thank you, baby.” He said happily through deep breathes,

“Don’t thank me so soon,” You said, smiling at his confusion. “We are nowhere near done.”

You got up from your knees and now hovered over his dick, semi-hard.

Sliding down onto his cock, the both of you gasped. It was relatively easy to fit him inside, not because he was small but because you were so wet. You had been since before you had gotten home. All day, you had waited and waited, teasing yourself, prepping yourself to please him, and Finally, you could. 

“Happy birthday, Kento.” You sighed dreamily.

A soft whimper left Nanami; his head burrowed into your neck. “Thank you, my love.”

And his soft gratitude is what urged you to begin bouncing. Up and down. Your legs burned, and still you continued. It wasn’t rough or fast, not wanting to knock the both of you off balance or break the chair beneath the two of you. You rocked slowly, letting his length do most of the work. It reached deep within you, and you couldn’t help but clamp down harshly.

So lost within the feeling of Kento, you hadn’t realised that he had broken through your flimsy lace underwear and now grasped onto your neck and hip as he began to assist you in reaching your peaks.

“Oh Fuck,” Kento groaned, “You feel so good, Y/N. So wet.”

“All.” You gasped as he picked you up from the chair, moving you to the kitchen counter, “All for you.” You managed to get out once you had gotten control over yourself.

“Oh yeah? All of this for me? Because it’s my birthday?” He was whining now, each word high-pitched and strained, 

“Becasue I love you.”  He slammed into you. 

“Christ, you undo me.”

“Good.” You giggle, getting cut off with a harsh moan.

Kenot’s pace picked up, thrust after thrust, as though he hated you. He pounded into your cervix, and you didn’t even have the ability to moan. You just sat there, taking your husband the best you could, mouth wide, letting in quick breaths and letting out silent moans.

Kento was anything but quiet. He refused to let his gratitude go unshown, how he loved you, how he worshipped you. He loved you for doing this. He would have loved you regardless, but he would never complain about being treated to the heaven that was your body. 

Over and Over, he pulled out of and pushed into you, his grip getting tighter on your neck and his breath becoming jagged and harsh.

“Shit, you are going to make me cum,” he groaned, “Cum with me, baby, cum with me, my love.”

“Yes, yes, yes”, you borderline screamed as your leg locked up and your eyes rolled, his other hand pushed lightly against the prodigy bump that was his cock inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” you squealed, squirty over his abdomen, seeing stars for a moment.

Kento came with a loud moan, his hand slamming on the kitchen counter and his teeth sinking into your neck.

“Happy birthday, Kento.”

He didn’t respond, too pussy drunk. He mindlessly just sunk to his legs and began to lap at your dripping cunt, collecting every last drop of his cum from your cunny, getting you ready to take him all over again.

Happy birthday to Kento indeed, he thought, smirking to himself as you gripped onto his hair tightly.

[bucknastysbabe]

Something to Hold - B.Barnes

Rating: Explicit

Tags: PWP, post TFATWS, bf Bucky, teasing, dirty talk, plus sized reader, v!play, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms

A/N: This is a repost from an old ask of Bucky and a plus sized gf :)

Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over the mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the States. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.

Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones.

His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself. He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and an adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching at the super-soldier.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed it on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

She sniffled, “Don’t need 'em- I got you.”

The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.

Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up.

The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news isn’t good for my nerves.”

Bucky wanted to get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first-hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”

As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes begin to water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple burst into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”

He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.

“So tell me about that project, baby.”

He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, her words slightly slurred. Bucky figured it was time for a wake-up call. He grabbed a handful of ass,smirking lecherously.

She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, you feel so good I lost control.”

He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.

“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”

Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only he got to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.

She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”

He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.”

He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.

She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”

He growled, “Open.”

The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.

“Please, fuck, fuck,” she whined, tears pricking.

Bucky grabbed her soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.

It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.

Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thick against his cock and now all of her curves and plush body for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.

Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”

She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, curling in on herself.

“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.

An annoyed whine was the response.

So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin.

The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed further, prettier for Buck, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.

Her head fell back again against the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.

She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”

He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.

Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from the intense pleasure of her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his calloused palm against her clit.

The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, his mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His babydoll wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”

That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.

She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his fingers out of her. He could bust right now at the slick on his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.

They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.

Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me, baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.

He gripped onto her flared hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. A cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so damn good.

Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”

She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.

She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.

He slumped into the couch, still seated inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her plush midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”

Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”

She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”

“Well, I could count two myself since you’re in my lap.”

“Hush.”

[xobunni0]

THROAT BABY ₊˚⊹ᰔ min su x f!reader

smut, big dick!min su, sucking him off in that suit

‘throat babies, tryna give em to you’

min su stood stiff and awkward in that black, perfect to his fitting suit the squid game handlers had given him for the final ceremony. the black of the jacket clung snug to his shoulders, sleeves just barely brushing his wrists, but it was the pants that did it. tailored just right, the fabric outlined the natural print of his cock even when he wasn’t hard, just the sheer print of it, outlined against the flat front, a thick curve that pressed against the material. no underwear or nothing at all could hide that kind of cock. he glanced down at himself, then flicked his eyes up fast, his face becoming flushed. his hand went low, tugging subtly, trying to shift the imprint upward, to hid the bulge. it didn’t help, just made the fabric hug him tighter.

you had noticed it immediately, of course. you’d always suspected. he was too quiet, too polite, too fidgety not to be hiding something big. and now here it was. just there, plain as daylight and too big to ignore. he caught you looking, looked away, but didn’t stop you

now, somehow, your knees pressed against cold steel where the bedframe bit through the cheap mattress, and he sat above you, back straight, arms stiff at his sides, legs spread just enough to give you space, barely. you were already between them, your hands working at his pants. his breath sounded uneven, and his eyes stared at the wall like if he didn’t look at you, none of this was really happening

you undid the button slowly. his thighs tensed, the moment he heard the sound of his fly going down his breath hitched. your fingers slipped beneath the waistband and pulled, and the pants came down just enough to expose the base of his cock, slim and smooth, flushed at the tip like a soft pale pink, lying soft against one thigh

he shifted again, half lifting his hips without thinking as you pulled the fabric lower, freeing him. his cock lay there, still soft, sure, but already swelling. already starting to rise, twitching once as cool air hit the head. you looked up. his ears were red. his fists clenched against his knees. his eyes flicked down for just a second, then locked on yours.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked

“No” he said, voice almost cracking “Just… I don’t know why you’re…”

but he trailed off, his cock jerked again. you leaned in closer

“I’ve thought about this since the second game” you murmured, fingers brushing his shaft. it was warm and only getting warmer. harder. he let out a soft, shaky exhale when your thumb grazed the head. you leaned in, tongue slipping out, tasting salt just at the tip, a gentle swipe and his thighs trembled beneath you

“Ah!” he exhaled, trying to suppress it, but it came out anyway

you wrapped your hand around the base and felt the weight of it, thick as your wrist and it took both hands to wrap around the length as it hardened. you licked again, this time slower, from base to tip, tongue flattening against that one prominent vein as he grunted above you, hips twitching forward

“god” he breathed, eyes wide now, locked to the sight of your mouth, wet and eager, teasing his tip before letting your lips close around it

the noise he made was low and full of disbelief “fuck!”, like he couldn’t believe this was happening, like he didn’t deserve it. you took him in slowly, inch by inch, your mouth stretching around the girth of him, your jaw aching already and still not halfway down

he watched you now, he couldn’t look away. his hands hovered at his sides, unsure, clenched like he was afraid to touch you, like if he laid a finger on your head he might cum right there.

your spit coated him, slick and glistening, the head now flushed deep with blood, precum beading at the slit and smeared across your tongue. you moaned softly around him, humming against the shaft as your throat flexed and took him deeper. he hissed “T-t-too much. fuck, I-” but you didn’t stop. you wanted to feel his cock press against the back of your throat, wanted to taste every inch of him until he stopped being polite and started fucking your mouth like he meant it.

his hips moved without permission, just a little. a shallow thrust. then another. then a groan, long and low building up from somewhere deep inside him “Aahhh, god. f-fuck…”

you wrapped both hands around the base, pumping what you couldn’t swallow, bobbing your head now with. wet sounds filled the room, filthy and needy. and above you, min su’s breathing grew louder, mouth parted, face flushed enjoying every second

you pulled back for air, a thick string of saliva clinging from your lips to his cock, and stared up at him. his chest was rising fast, nostrils flared, eyes glassy, he looked wrecked.

“you want to fuck my mouth?” you asked, lips swollen, voice hoarse “Do it.”

he froze for half a second, then moved

his hands finally found your head, fingers curling into your hair, grip clumsy but firm. you opened your mouth for him, tongue out, jaw loose. he guided himself in, slow at first, watching your expression, making sure you could take it but you didn’t gag, you wanted more

he began to thrust, short and shallow. then deeper

your throat clenched as the head hit the back, and still he pushed. you choked slightly, then adjusted your angle, breathing through your nose. he groaned deep and helpless “Ahh fuck, fuck, you’re taking it.”

you didn’t let up. your hands grabbed his thighs now, holding him, nails digging in as he started to really fuck your mouth. the pace built up, your spit dribbling down your chin, his cock driving in and out. your jaw ached, your throat burned and you loved it

he was so deep now you could feel him. he twitched inside your mouth then froze, just for a moment, gasping

one hand still buried in your hair, the other going to his throat

the silk of the bow tie. tight, too tight now as he fiddled with it, tugging at the knot, not undoing it, just pulling gently. the black bow twisted beneath his nervous fingers, while you took his cock

“f-fuck, you’re still. why are you still-?” he stammered, he was torn between pleasure and panic

you sucked harder, sliding deeper, your hand pumping the base, and when he made that high little gasp “Ahh!” you knew he felt it everywhere. you pulled back just enough to speak, your breath hot against his slick cock, lips brushing the head as you cooed, “It’s so fucking big, min su. you know that, don’t you?”

his eyes widened, mouth falling open “I-I don’t..”

“too big for my throat” you whispered, licking up the underside slowly “but I’m gonna take all of it.”

a helpless noise left him, somewhere between a moan and a sob, and his hand tugged tighter at the bow tie, the knot pressing against his throat now as he tried to breathe through the pleasure. his legs were trembling under your palms, his whole body leaning forward slightly

you wrapped your lips around the head again, tongue swirling, mouth slick and hungry, sucking with slow pressure while your hand stroked the base with long pumps. his cock throbbed under your touch. you could feel him getting close, could taste it salt, musk, precum thick now. you pulled him deeper, humming around him

“s-stop or I’ll…”

one hand was still buried in your hair, the other going to his throat

you didn’t stop. you wanted him to cum, wanted to feel that thick load rush down your throat while he melted above you

“c-cumming, I’m fuck- I’m..”

you braced yourself, eyes locked to his as he cried out, loud and startled “fuuuuckk” and the first twitch of cum hit the back of your throat, thick and he kept cumming, hips jerking forward with every spurt, cock throbbing against your tongue. you swallowed fast, trying not to choke, but there was so much, some of it leaked past your lips, dripping down your chin

mouth sealed tight around his cock, hands holding his trembling thighs in place as he rode it out

his fingers curled tighter in your hair, the other still on his tie, knuckles white as he gripped

you kept your lips around him even as the orgasm faded, sucking gently until he whined “too much, it’s too much.”

you pulled off slowly, lips puffy and shining. a final drop leaked from the tip, and you caught it with your tongue, licking your lips clean as you looked up at him

his face was flushed. his bow tie was twisted and damp with sweat. his shirt stuck to his chest, collar open, mouth still parted like he didn’t know what to say.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[kireilien]

Do you have thoughts on brat tamer teamies? 🫣

this got my panties so wet oh fuck

waybill: nsfw content, smoking mention (not representative of irl at all), slight pet play, (hard) dom!teamies

yudai: classic brat tamer. the type to bend you over his lap, spanking each side of your ass until you remember to behave. the type to edge you on hours on end to make sure you need to be kept in your place. the type to “threaten” you to be a put on a leash because how bratty you can get, you just need to be by his feet to understand to be obedient. making you ride his shoe as a punishment is so kei core.

fuma: oh this fat dick! forces you to throat his cock all the way! no breathers no breaks no nothing! what kind of a brat uses their mouth to embarrass their boyfriend by saying he has a small cock? obviously you need to be shut up and learn how to have some respect to the “small” cock you worship so much. this is what you wanted right? don’t fight against it when it’s made to be gagged on.

nicholas: another classic brat tamer. this time he ignores you. but in the way he ties you up on your bed with a vibrator on your clit and forces at least ten orgasms out of you. well what else could he do? talking about how he can’t make you cum? have all the non-nicho induced orgasms you want. you won’t be getting a nicho induced one for awhile. when he sees your messy tears, maybe he’ll give you one.

euijoo: nice guy juju act you will forever be not real to me. once that thin ice breaks, oh have fun only riding him. even when you whine saying, “j—juju! my thighs hurt! ‘m sorry i’ll be good— please!” you literally asked for this btw. brats don’t get dicked down, you do it yourself since you’re just so greedy! you’re crying, sniffling, whimpering, juju can’t help but have fake empathy, “this is what you get, baby.”

yuma: slaps. slaps. slaps. spanks. orgasm denials. that’s how he keeps his brat in check. slaps against your cheeks. maybe even pulling on your hair. slapping and groping your tits and ass. “stupid— fucking— whore.” each slap gets your skin hot. tingly. electrocuted. yuma thinks he’s funny when he fucks you so rough, cumming inside, pulls out, and sits on the edge of the bed, on his phone or smoking. he dgaf!

jo: he uses those hands to WORK. also another spanker. spanks that ass until it’s raw. also forces you to either give him a handjob, blowjob, or a titjob for a week straight. he’s nice enough that he’ll finger you if you need him. no cock though. what type of brat deserves cock when you act up? literally none tf? when the week is over he’ll give you cock, but only when you ride him pt.2… have fun with that!

harua: does nothing. i kid you not. petty and idgaf war veteran. “you want my cock, baby? yeah i want your pussy too but someone decided to be bratty.” you’re clingy on him saying sorry over and over but he simply hums, “you did this to yourself.” after awhile he caves but he can only cum at least twice before you do. harua is nice, not kind. who do you think you are deserving of that?

taki: i can’t see him as a brat tamer usually, but if you embarrass the shit outta him. whew. expect quickies ONLY and you don’t even cum. leaves you hanging and edged on for ages. he only caves when you’re on your knees between his legs literally begging for him and his cock. “fuck. just don’t do that again, okay? don’t wanna deal with a brat all the time, do we?” you pathetically nod and you actually listen.

maki: fucking owner ahh brat tamer. he talks to you like a dog and doesn’t let up. he thinks you’re just a puppy who needs some more training! surely he didn’t pick up a bad dog right? “c’mon pup, don’t growl at me because you decided to be all up on another person who wasn’t your owner.” has you either in his lap or between his legs, inches away from his bare cock but you have to be good and not touch it!

[omgitskaii]

destiel first date idea

first of all: it’s deans idea. he’s never had what he would consider a serious long-term relationship. of course that’s not to downplay his relationships with cassie and lisa, they were serious for him too, but deep down, he never believed either of them would last no matter how bad he wanted it. he was never the kind of guy who’d take them out to dinner or treat them to things… it’s not for lack of trying, mind you. with cassie, he was still out hunting on his own and she had her own things; they had different lives and they made it work, it just wasn't something they did. with lisa, dean was just at a rough period for a long time, and even when he did get better, he busied himself with whatever work he could get. deans definitely thought about it, but it was also just in his nature to do that stuff casually... homemade meals, long car rides. he never went over the top or anything. but cas deserves nice things, and dean wants to do this… and honestly, he’s never actually been on a “serious” date before. so, yes, it’s his idea.

however, that’s about the only smart idea he has when it comes to this date.

dean asks, and cas says yes. obviously he says yes, but deans still the tiniest bit nervous that he’ll say no. he’s totally certain there was a 50/50 shot where cas would say no, when in reality there was a 98% chance that cas would’ve said yes (that leftover 2% was if cas was feeling exceptionally cruel or, more on the nose, if dean was being a dick that particular day.)

dean gets dolled up, which, by his standards, is just putting on a flannel that doesn’t have blood stains on it and a shirt that doesn’t have a hole in it… which was considerably hard, so he bought some nice new clothes at a walmart. cas’ usual attire underneath his trenchcoat was good enough for a date, and neither of them (read: dean) wanted sam catching wind of any of it. they claimed they were doing a simple salt and burn that would take a few hours, and to not wait up.

cas doesn’t have any concept of what a date really is, aside from the knowledge he'd gained from those cheesy hallmark romcoms dean liked to put on some nights, so really there are no real steaks here. but to dean there was. he was gonna give this guy the best god damn date of his billion year old life. he was gonna show him what he’d been missing out on down on earth. dean had a plan that he was totally certain, from his countless hours of research (read: movie watching), would guarantee cas to have a good time. it wasn't gonna be like how it was in his 20's. maybe this is where dean goes wrong.

the first of many things that go wrong is that dean decides to set them up at a restaurant.

he was excited about making his entire plan up that the angel part of cas kinda slipped his mind… granted, that’s his whole thing. blame a guy for trying so hard, right? and, honestly, the place he picked out is nothing fancy. it’s the kind of restaurant you’d pass along a strip, and where instead of taking a seat at the bar like they usually would, they take a booth instead, somewhere quiet and intimate. that’s the winchester standard of fancy, really.

it’s right when they enter the dingy little diner and sit down that dean realizes when cas gently reminds dean that he doesn’t eat. he mumbles a pathetic little “right, yeah,” and his leg bounces under the table out of nerves. cas gently knocks his feet against his to quiet it, and he takes the menu anyway.. whether out of pity or a faux-casualness dean isn't sure. he prompts dean on what sounds good, and when the waiter comes to take their order, cas still gets something to ease deans mind and slides it over to him when deans polished off his own plate. they talk about anything and everything, conversations that last long after their (deans) meals, their feet tangle up underneath the booth, and cas actually laughs at some of the things dean says. dean was kinda liking the low, edgy rock filling in the silence of the restaurant, but that’s the greatest thing he’s heard all night. all day. all month, really.

even though he'd fumbled hard at first and made a smooth recovery, deans still a bundle of nerves. he’s nervous as all hell because he’s gotta make this good. strike one is for being stupid enough to take cas out to a nice dine-in when the guy cant even friggin’ eat. he’s fidgeting a bit when he pays, and he coughs awkwardly when they up and leave, and dean holds the door open for him... an angel of the lord. deans about to kick himself for it, but cas smiles anyway and thanks him.

now deans itching to make it good. like he’s got something to prove. he walks alongside cas, brushing his shoulder against his and cas, bless him, doesn’t make a stupid mocking comment about ‘personal space’ like he always does. that’s something deans never lived down since they got together, after cas had discovered what a clingy bastard he’d become. the second strike is that deans too much of a fucking coward to reach out or even ask to hold cas’ hand on the way to the car, their hands brush awkwardly and when he can just wrap his pinky finger around his, dean darts away when an older looking gentleman stalks past them with a rather judgmental aura.

phase one is done. deans got so much planned, his next step was to take cas to the movies… but once he sits behind baby’s wheel he realizes that with all the time they’d sat down talking, they’re 40 minutes late to the damn movie. deans fumbling now, because by the time they get there the movie would be over and cas doesn’t eat the friggin’ popcorn so what’s the point? in all honestly, he assumed he’d crash in burn at dinner, so by his standards, he's still doing phenomenal. he thought that he had this entire thing set up, and despite his nerves and everything, he was actually having a nice time with cas. he’s drumming his fingers on the wheel, blabbering, trying to smooth out this horrendous pot-hole in the road about how they could go to an arcade instead or do some cliche chick flick shit just to get the idea out there, how they could go to the arcade (eugh...) or to the park (barf…)

and as much as he hates it, the offer of grabbing a motel spills out over the thrumming nerves, and he regrets it almost instantly. the idea itself sets him on edge and fills his stomach with lead; the warmth of laughter and good company dies and leaves him feeling... younger. in all honestly, dean doesn’t even want to. this isn’t some hook up, this is cas… but ending up in motel is just how things like this went for dean. the thing is, is that if cas wanted to, he would. because dean wouldn’t deny him that. but… the idea of a date with the looming expectation of sex as a reward for modesty and kindness makes dean want to throw up now. maybe 20, hell, maybe even 10 years ago that wouldn't have been in issue. but it’s different now. it’s not like dean doesn’t want to have sex with cas… it’s just he really doesn’t want to right now. he didn’t want this to have strings attached, like this is just a game of give and receive; dean doesn’t want it. but he will, if cas did.

but cas doesn’t bite. he’s staring as dean fumbles through his own internal turmoil. because he can't hide a damn thing from him. and all cas does is smiles and says “I have an idea.”

he asks dean to drive.

they don’t have a particular destination in mind. dean lets him put on some tapes, even goes as far as to let cas put on his own music through an adapter sam had pestered him into getting for the impala. it’s mostly a combination of deans music, and one or two pop songs that claire and jack had recommended to cas. the drive is long, almost endless, filled with just the two of them talking. that seems to be a thing they'd do all the time, and it feels like this isn't even a date at all. it's just them. dean, cas, and an open stretch of road. deans hand ends up slipping off the wheel and cas takes it so easily dean doesn't even notice until they lapse into a comfortable silence and cas' thumb rubs over his worn knuckles. it's nice. it's fucking great.

cas directs dean at some point to pull into a nice isolated side of the road, nestled between a few trees that would probably be the perfect spot for a lurking cop car to catch speeders. there's an open patch of field across from them, fenced in with a few horses still roaming around as the sun sets, the sky mostly painted in watercolours of blue and spots of pink, orange, and red, with stars blinking out into existence. the two of them wander out to babys hood and sit there. the windows are rolled down with low rock and crickets, and they sit together. it's peaceful. it's nice. it's way better than whatever dean had planned by a long shot.

maybe peace was all they need. maybe all they really need is eachother.

they sit on babys hood and hold each other, pressed up shoulder to shoulder, holding hands as cas points out a few constellations dotting the sky, how they came to be, what angel made them, and other space-angel-crap dean only pays half-attention to. he'd rather be staring at cas, as cheesy as it is, and see the stars reflected in the vast blue galaxy of his eyes. he wonders if his eyes are made of stars, if his bones are built from stardust from the millions of years ago that he was born. he wonders if cas is a planet, and if he's just caught in his orbit, the way he tries to press himself impossibly closer. he wonders if they'd kiss right now, if it'd feel like a supernova, if his grace would bleed into him and brand him a new star. he wonders if he could feel the spark of it on his tongue. he wonders if he could taste ozone on his lips.

cas nudges dean and points out into the distance. he says something about the north star. how it always brings you home.

there are stars in cas' eyes.

and he's right.

[thatgayunoriginalbastard]

Peisistratus was still mentally reeling from his orgasm --of all the things he expected to happen that night, seeing Telemachus choke on his cum while still having all the power was notably NOT one of them-- but he knew how much power he had with Telemachus. Even if Telemachus was the one in control, he could still make his husband fall apart with a glance. He saw how Telemachus started to falter slightly with just a smirk so maybe he still had a shot of saving at least a little bit of his ego.

Just because he was beneath his husband didn't mean he was powerless, after all.

"Telemachus," Peisistratus said breathily, only half having to fake his desperation, "please tell me that you have oil."

Telemachus just chuckled and got out of bed, going over to one of his chests and opening it up, sorting through a few small pots before pulling out one that had plants painted around the outside of it.

"This one is supposedly good for...these kinds of uses." Telemachus explained as he got back into bed, a hint of sheepishness in his voice, "It's a mixture that has some plants that aid in muscle relaxation."

"Perfect. Hand it over, will you?"

Telemachus looked mildly confused at Peisistratus' request but did as he was told. Peisistratus opened up the jar, being hit with the great scent of whatever herb mixture was inside, then dipped his pointer and middle fingers into it, letting them get coated in oil before removing them, carefully putting the lid back on the jar and setting it aside. Telemachus had confusion and curiosity written all over his face, both of which went away when Peisistratus laid back, took a breath, then started to circle the fingers over his hole, an act that he saw instantly got his husband's mind --and dick-- so much more interested.

"I figured that I know my body better than you do and we wouldn't want to waste our time fumbling around like maidens, right? So I can get myself nice and stretched out for you before you fuck me. Plus after how good you did sucking my dick, I figured you deserve a break from the work."

Peisistratus saw the way that Telemachus was looking at him and was thrilled to have clearly caught his dear husband off guard, but after just a few glorious seconds of staring, Telemachus just chuckled softly and sat back, gesturing him to go on. Peisistratus didn't know what Telemachus was planning, but it wasn't like he could lose any ground by asking questions. So, Peisistratus let out a slow controlled exhale as he let his middle finger slip inside of him.

The intrusion was weird, but not unfamiliar. Even if he had mostly imagined himself being the giver in any scenarios, that didn't mean there weren't a few occasions where he wondered what it would be like to take instead. He wouldn't have been able to pull the whole argument of knowing his body if he hadn't. And sure he supposed he could have lied in that case, but Telemachus was always able to tell when he was lying.

So he supposed he should thank Aphrodite for the fact that all it took was getting pinned down while sparring once to have the idea of Telemachus fucking him put inside his head.

Peisistratus pumped his finger inside of him, trying to keep his breaths as steady as possible. Even though he wanted to look at Telemachus, he couldn't help but press his head back and stare at the ceiling instead. He couldn't restrain his soft moans as he found that the muscle relaxing herbs in the water did actually work. His finger just got deeper inside of him but he needed more. Even if he had practically just cum, his hand started to move down towards his dick, just so he could get a boost in pleasure.

"Don't."

Peisistratus froze and finally looked at Telemachus, finding his husband staring at him intently, lazily pumping his dick. The bastard was jerking off to the sight of him fingering himself and hadn't even made a sound. It was the perfect balance of annoying and so, so hot. The idea of Telemachus being able to jerk off to the sight of him without him noticing sparked several images in his head momentarily but he brushed them away to focus on the reality. The reality that was his husband having so much power over him.

"Seriously?" Peisistratus scoffed, though it come out far whinier than intended, "I still can't jerk off?"

"You cum because of me or not at all. I can't risk you spending yourself before I get inside you."

"And yet you can do whatever you want to yourself?"

"Of course I can. I'm the crown prince, after all. I'll be king someday."

"Yeah and I'm your husband. So what does that make me?"

"Come on Jellyfish," Telemachus purred, moving closer to Peisistratus without stopping touching himself, "Laying here with your legs spread, fingering yourself open for me, and moaning so prettily?"

Telemachus rubbed one of Peisistratus' legs with his free hand, looking down at him like a wolf who just found an injured rabbit.

"You're going to make such a good queen one day."

Between Telemachus' words, the way he suddenly squeezed his thigh, and that damn look in his eyes, Peisistratus sharply gasped and his middle finger slipped the rest of the way inside of him. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, his finger ended up brushing over that sensitive spot inside of him, making his hips buck into the open air, much to the amusement of Telemachus. And making things even worse, Telemachus moved so that he was over Peisistratus, one hand planted firmly by his head as the other kept stroking himself. And he made sure their eyes were locked together.

"You can't watch me like this, you know." Peisistratus said, breaths slightly shaky.

"I can watch you just fine. You have such a handsome face, after all. What else would I want to look at?"

Peisistratus whimpered at the praise --it seemed like a lot of discoveries were being made that night-- then slipped his middle finger most of the way out before slipping it back in alongside his pointer finger. As he pumped his fingers inside of him, he glanced down and saw that Telemachus seemed to be able to tell what his pace was as he was jerking off to the same rhythm that Peisistratus fingered himself. He found himself quickly hypnotized by the sight, especially when he brushed up against the sensitive spot again, shuddered out a moan, and saw how that made Telemachus' hips buck into his hand. He managed to chuckle slightly at seeing the effect he had on his dear husband yet again, but as he looked back at Telemachus he found him still wearing that completely confident gaze. Though unlike before, it was full of pure lust.

"You have no idea what you do to me." Telemachus husked, "You weaken my mind, make me an idiot. I'm supposed to be a warrior of the mind and yet every time I look at you, you are all that I can think about. The times when I've seen you leaning against a pillar and wondering how you'd look if I was pinning you to it, when you've bent over a table to point at something on a map and all I can look at is your ass that would be so easy for me to see clearly if not for a single layer of fabric, when I'd be jerking off in our bed and wishing that you would walk in on me and take over before fucking me so good I'd never dream of getting pleasure from anyone but you, not even myself."

A shudder went through Peisistratus' body which only seemed to fuel the fire behind his husband's eyes. It was almost terrifying. He knew that the man above him could and would absolutely ruin him.

But frankly, he already had.

"I've been longing for you even before we got married." Peisistratus said, not caring at all how womanly his voice sounded, "The day you showed up at my father's palace requesting aide and information about your father, I was put under your spell. Those nights we spent travelling together made me wish you were a woman so I could properly court you. And when you and your parents came to my father and I with the proposal of a strategic marriage, my only hesitation in saying yes was because I knew that you're an incredible actor. But I was never acting, Telemachus. None of my words, none of my glances, none of my touches have ever been faked. It was always real. I could just never admit it. Because I thought you were acting. And I didn't want to throw you off script."

"Fuck, Istra." Telemachus exhaled with a moan, picking up the pace of his hand.

"I love you, Telemachus, son of Odysseus and Penelope, crown prince of Ithaca, student of the goddess of wisdom. I love you more than I could ever capture through words and even actions would come up short. But I hope that you can see the love and desire and longing in my eyes and know that I would never want for anyone but you. I am lucky to be your husband and I cannot wait for the day when we get to rule together as kings. I want to have a family with you, my darling dove, one that no god or man or war could ever break apart. I want to grow old with you and when we're dead I want our ashes to be mixed together like Achilles and Patroclus so that in death we will still be together eternally. I want you, Telemachus. Only you."

Telemachus whined sharply and Peisistratus could see tears starting to well up in his eyes. He stilled his fingers as he was suddenly filled with concern, fearing that maybe he went too far or that he was being far too deep and genuine for what they were doing. But right when he opened his mouth to apologize, Telemachus suddenly grabbed his face with both hands and smashed their lips together. Warmth filled Peisistratus' body and he practically went limp, though his fingers were still deep inside of him. He moaned into the kiss and Telemachus started to grind their dicks against each other, allowing his husbands tongue to enter his mouth. Telemachus was moving his hips slowly but Peisistratus could feel just how hard he was and figured they both knew if he went any faster he'd be the one spending himself too soon. And when Telemachus nipped at Peisistratus' lower lip as he pulled back, Peisistratus could see all the pure desperation in the teary eyes of his husband.

"I love you so fucking much, Peisistratus. I- I need to feel you." Telemachus stammered, still holding Peisistratus' face.

Oh.

Oh.

Now that was something that Peisistratus could use.

"You want to fuck me, dove?" Peisistratus cooed, leaning into his husband's touch.

"Yes."

"Alright." Peisistratus said with a devious smirk, "Prove it."

"W-what?"

"Go on puppy. You claim you want to fuck me? I want proof"

Peisistratus finally slipped his fingers out of himself, giving him more mobility so he could push himself up enough to kiss the tip of Telemachus' nose.

"Beg."

Okay okay okay. Wait. Wait wait wait. The Telestratus marriage of convenience thing. Omg that… that tickled something in my brain. Marriage of convenience to restrengthen trade for Ithaca after distrust spreads from the suitor slaughtering fiasco or something along those lines maybe, they were friends before from Tele’s travels back before Odysseus returned so the two of them figure “why the hell not he’s a cool guy and it’s not like I have anyone else” cue years of playing it up like they’re OdyPen levels of in love to make it look good and then suddenly realizing “oh… OH… oh NO…” now NEITHER of them are acting but BOTH of them think the other still is and they both joke about it behind closed doors but they’re really NOT joking because they’re down so bad ahhhhhhhh I LOVE this!!

@theshroud-thechallenge-thearrow (dang side blog curse)

Odysseus: Hey so I know you're friends with Nestor's kid Peisistratus. Do you think you could like, I don't know, try dating one of his sisters? Getting a connection between Ithaca and Pylos would be helpful for both of us. Only if you want to, of course. And if you end up falling in love with someone else we can work something out.

Telemachus: ...or I could just get with Peisistratus himself? You know, since he and I are friends then that'll make things easier. We'll get married platonically, help both of our kingdoms, and then when we find people we actually love we'll just have them as "lovers" on the side. That'll take care of the whole heirs thing too.

Odysseus: Yeah, sure, that works.

~A while later~

*"chilling" in their shared bedroom post-marriage*

Telemachus, internally: oh shit oh fuck of shit I actually fell in love with him oh gods this can't be happening I'm the one who told him this idea he thinks that he has such an easy out with this with the whole lovers thing so it's not like I can tell him that I'm actually in love with him...

Peisistratus, internally: oh no I actually fell in love with him oh dear gods he created this plan as just a practical thing he's literally a student of Athena I can't fuck this up by actually falling in love with him I was his first real friend I can't ruin our friendship and what was supposed to be an amicable way to help our kingdoms without any attachment

~Meanwhile~

Odysseus: Man, our son sure is able to sell being in love really well

Penelope: He sure is.

Odysseus: ...

Penelope: ...

Odysseus: So they absolutely caught feelings, right?

Penelope: Obviously.

[r1z3n]

You know I talked about Unhinged Tim & Dick

but I want to talk about Jason and Dick.

Cause yeah Jason didn't necessarily learn from Dick like Tim did but that is because Dick was never expected to be an authority to Jason. (Not just narratively but in canon if we pay attention to it. Dick was never expected to take care of Jason the same way he was for every sibling afterwards)

That means they probably play by different rules. They are probably close in that way that everyone would be like 'they hate each other'.

Dick and Jason probably don't even realize it. To them it is just how it is.

Like yeah of course they will tear each other apart verbally, then flip around ready to eviscerate anyone else that tried, and all would be forgiven with a shitty cold convenience store coffee with the correct amount of sugar and cream.

Oh yeah, Jason knows about every person Dick every killed or got close to killing, as cop/mercenary/spy/vigilante, except you know Joker, because it never came up. Dick brought the others up during a fight when Jason tried to be "oh boo hoo, you wouldn't know".

Dick, what do you mean YOU KNEW ABOUT THE GLOWING SWORDS? Dick sipping Starbucks raised eyebrow of Judgement 'you didn't?' To be fair he only found out because they were watching a supernatural episode (because 100% Jason had a phase as a preteen and now wants to get the new spn memes context even if he is gonna hate it), and well it couldn't hurt to double check. They were Fine and the swords were cool. Now they have semi every other weekend plans for the next few years, and Constantine gets nervous around them.

Jason and Dick just know all secrets of each other, but ask them what the other's favorite color is or some like surface level thing, and you gonna get 'why the fuck would I know that?.

They also probably don't realize how unhinged the other is, in a way that makes them even more unhinged together because 'well if they are like this then i need to match it' until you know suddenly you have villains and goons begging for any other pair after them. Red Hood, they can deal with. Nightwing, they can deal with. Red Hood and Nightwing, and suddenly harden criminals are screaming for Batman to save them. Much to the two's bafflement.

Even more baffling an old boy goon looking at Nightwing, going 'he brings out the first robin in you boy." like one says "he brings out the demon in you."

[like-tears-in-rain-storms]

Hot take

You can gauge how much creative liberty Robert Eggers was granted in each movie by whether there are penises present.

[4e7her]

someone please tell me why blue lock is consuming my entire brain.

i have made a short prologue for the fic. shinsei ayame is my new baby girl and i love him. he is my personal way of distributing justice against isagi for making niko cry and kuon for being an ass.

it's going to be slight yan / yan tendencies, probably just more obsessive love interests than considered normal but we can blame that on everyone being trapped in a football prison. i think it makes sense

anyways i'll probably post the prologue on friday? depending on how fast i finish writing the second chapter. i think it'll go pretty fast once i get into it i've already got notes on the first episode so

[dawnfire12]

Day off with the Saja Boys

Pairing: Saja Boys (Kpop Demon Hunter) X You (female)

Summary: You are the boys’ manager and you all deserve a day off. What you consider a day off is different than what they consider a day off. You want to pamper yourself and sit in a sauna, relaxing your body. Well the boys have other plans in mind for your body 😉

Warning: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, all consensual.

A/N: I haven’t proofread it at all lol. I hope you enjoy it! And as requested by @noyeahhh

You wake up by nature's alarm clock with the sun passing over your eyelids. You stretch, getting up and looking at the time. 7:00 am, even on a day off you can’t help but wake up early. You go to your bathroom and brush your teeth so you can eat as your stomach growls loudly. You shuffle into the shared kitchen that you have with the saja boys. As their manager, it’s just easier to live in the same space as them.

You yawn and see Baby on the couch. Just like his name, he’s always up the earliest. 

“Hi Baby.” You wave.

He looks up at you and beckons you over. You collapse next to him on the couch and he wraps his arms around your waist, putting his head on your chest. 

You pet his back, "Did you sleep well?”

He nods and moves his head towards your neck where you are sensitive. His breath makes you wiggle.

“That tickles.” You whisper.

He grins and starts kissing your neck. You hum, extending your neck a bit and stroking his hair. He’s always affectionate in the morning. His kissing turns to sucking and you let out small sighs. He brings your hand down to his clothed dick that’s hard and you push his boxers down to stroke his dick. You lean forward to spit on it to lube up your hand to make it more pleasurable for him. You set an even pace and he whimpers in your ear and ruts into your hand. His hand travels to your little silk shorts and rubs you through them.

You moan,”Baby, it’s too early.”

“I need you.” He begs. 

You sigh,”Baby.”

He pulls down your shorts and places two fingers into your damp pussy. He opens you up with a scissoring motion against your walls making his fingers become even wetter. 

You moan quietly, "Everyone is sleeping.”

He withdraws his fingers and turns you over so your face is in the cushion and your ass is up. He thrusts into you at a fast pace that has you gripping the cushions and using them to muffle your moans.

“I just need to feel you.” He moans.

Even though your moans are quiet, the slapping of the skin is loud. He places one hand on your hair, making sure your head stays down and in a way using you as his only fleshlight. 

“Ah, ah, ah! You feel so good! I just want to stay in you!” He whimpers.

He rubs your clit, making you cry out.

“Please cum! I need to feel you cum so bad! It feels so good when you cum! Squeezing my dick!” He begs you. 

It doesn’t take long for your legs to tremble and clamp down on his dick while your orgasm crashes over you.

“Ah! Yes! Just like that! So good! Mhmm!” He moans and climaxes.

He pumps into you a few more times before pulling out and pulling your shorts and his back on. 

You huff out air, “Well now I need a shower.”

He looks at you with puppy eyes, "Thank you!”, as if he’s an innocent child. As if he wasn't just pounding you a few moments ago.

You get up from the couch and start to walk towards your room when another door opens. It’s Mystery wearing a silver silk set of pjs, almost like yours. You hope he didn’t hear the activity in the living room.

“Good morning.” You whisper to him.

He waves and drags you into the room. He closes the door behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you. You let out a gasp of surprise and wrap your arms around his neck. He starts walking backwards towards his bed and sits on it. You follow to the point where you are standing in between his legs and he’s leaning up to kiss you. He leans away from you, breaking the kiss and forces you on your knees. He takes out his fully erect cock.

“You heard us in the living room?” You ask.

He nods, "Made me so horny. Now you have to fix it.”

He strokes himself a few times, staring at you. You lick your lips and lean over to place his cock in your mouth. You breathe in through your nose as you take his dick in your throat. He groans and it vibrates in your mouth. You moan back. You start moving your mouth up and down, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue along his shaft. 

He moans, "Just like that baby.”

You suck faster, not wanting to disappoint him and brush the tip with your tongue a few times. He hisses and starts grabbing your hair, moving his hips up. You gag a little, causing you to moan and grab onto his thighs.

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna cum down your throat! And you will drink. Every. Drop.” He enunciates as he thrusts into your throat. 

You cry out (muffled) as you feel the warm liquid hit the back of your throat. He pulls his dick out of your mouth and pulls you up to softly kiss you. He gives you slow pecks, tasting himself on his tongue and pulls down your shorts. 

“What are you doing?” You ask him as he brings you to sit on his thighs.

“I just want to feel you for a little.” He places his once soft dick, now already hard, into your pussy.

You dig your nails into his shoulders from the intrusion. He sinks you down all the way and you whimper. Once he’s fully in, you are trying to control your breath and he doesn’t move. He has every intention of leaving you to cockwarm him. He runs his hands up and down your back, making you shiver. The shivering has his dick move up into you a little bit and you moan.

The sound of your moan, his demon nails come out and dig into your hips. Without warning, he pulls up and slams you down on his dick. 

You cry out, "Mystery!”

He thrusts up into you and pulls your hair.

“I was gonna have you be a good girl and let you cockwarm me for a little but you couldn’t help it. Could you?” He asks.

You moan, "It’s not my fault.”

“Hmm. We will see about that.” He smirks and rubs your clit.

“Mystery!” You moan.

“Yeah! Yeah! Fuck! Clench on me just like that!” He keeps pounding into you. 

All you can focus on is how good his dick feels thrusting up into you and how your pussy is tightening that you know you aren’t going to last.

“Mystery! I’m gonna cum!” You warn him.

“Yes! Cum!” He moans and you follow his command. He thrusts a few more times, unable to fight the tightening of your walls and fills you up.

“Jesus!” You exhale as you come down from your high. 

He kisses your cheek, "You should probably shower with all the cum in you.”

You glare at him, "I wonder who’s fault that is.”

He kisses you again and untangles himself from you. You leave his room, entering yours and jumping straight into the shower. Who knew that this would be your life? Orgasming twice in one day by different boys. You need a raise.

The water is warm and relaxes your muscles. You sigh into the shower with your eyes closed, facing the water and feel a cool breeze behind you. You think maybe you left a window open and turned around to see Abby.

“Abby! What the hell!” You exclaim.

He smiles all goofy,”Hi!”

“Hello! Why are you in my shower?” You stare at him.

He smirks, "I want a turn.”

You gape at him. Next thing you know he’s picking you up, wrapping your legs around your waist and placing you against the tile while kissing you. He kisses like he is devouring your soul. His tongue suffocates you in a good way. You gasp at every pass his tongue makes and he trails down to your neck and to your boobs. He sucks on them one at a time, leaving hickies and leaving you gasping. He brushes one finger against your opening and sees you are dripping for him.

He impales you on his dick and gives you no time to adjust. He sets a brutal pace that has your mind scrambling and making you only moan. He is in you so deep and he is very thick. It feels so good to be stretched out by him.

“I knew this is what you needed.” He brags as he sucks on your tits.

You’re so glad he has such upper body strength because your body is giving up on its own strength based on how he is pounding into your pissy.

“Abby! Right there!” You cry out as he hits your gspot.

“I know how to make my girl cum!” He moans, "And I need you to cum on my cock now.”

You open your eyes, "I can’t just from this.”

He laughs, "Oh yes you will!”

He keeps hitting your gspot over and over again, making you see stars and leaning your head back against the wall, cumming so hard.

“Ah! Abby!” You cry out as he continues to fuck you.

“Told you so! Now take my cum!” He pushes up into you one last time, shooting his seed in you.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he slowly moves his hips a few times and takes out his dick, placing you on the floor. You grip his arms as your legs feel like jelly.

“Look at you all wrecked.” He licks his lips.

“Don’t lick your lips. I know what you’re thinking, get out.” You protest.

He holds up his hands and slips out of the shower room.

You lean your head against the wall. You just wanted to take a shower but can’t deny how you loved his dick. You clean yourself up, only wearing a robe and go to your room. Even though it’s supposed to be a relaxing day you can’t help but send some emails, ensuring that the events the boys have to go to are booked. At some point your eyes close with your laptop still on your lap.

The next time you open your eyes, you wake yourself up with a moan, gripping the sheets as you feel a tongue moving in you. You lean up as you feel another wave of pleasure through you and look down to see Romance eating you out. You barely have time to cry out his name as you cum on his tongue. He drinks up every bit you can give him.

He crawls up your body and kisses you, "Hi.”

“Hi.” You whisper back and brush your hand over his bangs.

You look over to see your computer closed and on the floor. He brings your face to look at him as he kisses you softly. You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He caresses your body like you’re made of glass and massages your thighs. He licks your neck and your boobs before making his way back down to your wet center. He places one finger in you to stretch you out a bit.

“So wet for me.” He hums before placing his hands over your head and thrusting in you.

He goes slowly, making sure to savor every moment in you. There’s no urgency, just the feeling of being connected. 

“Oh, my love.” He whispers against your lips.

Your whimper and clench around his dick.

“You’re so good! My pretty girl!” He starts moving faster, chasing down our orgasms.

Your legs tighten around his waist and your nails scratch down his back. One particular thrust has your head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth wide open with all the moans falling out.

“Cum my love! Milk my cock!” He circles your clit.

“Oh fuck! Romance! Please don’t stop! Ah! Right there! Please! Ah Romance!” Your walls clench on his cock as you cum.

“Yes! Yes!” He cums in you, lazily thrusting as he rides out his high. 

You whimper as he slips out of you. He grabs some of your clothes from the drawer, dresses you and kisses you softly. You blink up at him as you whisper a small thank you. He leaves your room and you follow to grab some food from the kitchen. However, once again, you are pulled into another room. Jinu has you pressed up against his locked door and doesn’t give you a chance to react as he furiously kisses you. He bites your lip and is digging his hands into your hips. 

He releases your mouth, giving you a chance to breathe before he lifts you up and has your legs around his waist. He presses you against the door and grinds against you. You throw your head back as he bites your neck. 

“Jinu!” You cry. 

With one hand, he keeps you up and pushes his pants down before pushing yours down.

He positions his dick in front of your center, "No need to prepare. I know you still have his cum in you.”

He thrusts up into you and sets a relentless pace. Your body moves up and down the door from the force of his thrusts. From this position, your clit is rubbed against his pelvis each time causing your legs to tighten harder against him. You’re so sensitive that your orgasm builds fast and you are seeing stars. 

“Fuck!” He cums after your walls squeezed him so tight.

You thought he would be done but he puts you on the bed and has you on all fours. He gives you no time to adjust and thrusts into you. Set at the same pace as before. He pulls your hair and you grasp at the covers.

“Look at you. Taking my cock so well” He praises.

You moan and your eyes flutter close.

“Uh nuh. Eyes open pretty.” He demands.

You open your eyes and see a mirror in front of you. You can see (and feel) how hard he is pounding against you and how wrecked you are starting to look.

“I bet you only look this wrecked on my dick, isn’t that right?”

You moan instead of an answer.

He yanks your hair a bit more, "Answer.”

“Yes Jinu!” You cry.

“Good girl!” He lets go of your hair and rubs your clit.

You try to squirm away but he holds you close.

“Be good. You know you want to cum.” He coos.

You start drooling, "Ah! Jinu! AH! Ah! Right there! Don’t stop! MMHPM!”

“Fuck!!!!” He cums in you as you start coming.

Your legs are twitching as he fills you. He pumps in you a few times and rests on your back, kissing it a few times. He pulls out and carries you to his bathroom where he has a tub of water already prepared. He slips in with you and washes you. He turns you to face him and kisses you softly. You open your mouth for him and he brings you closer and starts pulling you on his dick.

“No more.” You whisper.

His eyes pout, "Please just one more. Just wanna feel you.”

Before you can protest he’s slipping in. You can feel how thick and long he is in this position. He’s definitely the biggest and thickest dick out of all the boys. He thrusts into you, grabbing onto your hips and you can only hold onto his arms. You just started but by the way you have been cumming all day you know you can only last a few more moments.

“Jinu! I can’t! It’s too much!” You cry out.

He thrusts up even faster, making all the water splash around.

“Please just one more! I need you to cum again! Need to feel you squeeze my dick! I need you to be full of my cum! Only mine! Say your mine!” He begs you.

You sob, ”Yours Jinu!”

The next few thrusts have you over the edge and you cum so hard you black out for a moment. You come to when he cums in you for the last time that night. You blink in and out of consciousness, needing a full day of recovery after the sex marathon. You barely stay awake while he washes you up and tucks you into bed. 

The next morning you wake up sore but fully satisfied. You get up and lock your door to continue your work. You hear knocks at the door but ignore them. The boys whine and beg you to let them in. You know they could just come in with their powers, however, they respect that your door is locked. After a few hours, you venture into the kitchen to eat and see the boys in the living room.

You point a water bottle at all of them, "Listen. I’m human. I don’t have as much stamina as you guys. So please keep your dicks away from me for the next few days.”

The boys all pout and groan except for one member who doesn’t like the tone you took. 

As you walk back to the kitchen, a pair of arms wrapped around you and kisses your neck. You place your water bottle on the table and lean into the arms. While you are getting neck kisses, the person is grinding their dick into your ass. You whimper and turn in their arms.

“No more Jinu.” You say.

He responds with furious kisses and pulls your shorts down. He pushes you onto the table and has one of your legs up while he devours your pussy. His tongue moves in you like he’s trying to take your soul out from your pussy. You cry, grabbing his hair and leaning your head back on the table. While your eyes are closed from the pleasure, he pushes down his pants and pounds into you.

“Jinu!” You cry out.

His hips slap into yours hard and the whole table is shaking.

“I seem to recall you cumming a lot yesterday. Right?” He pants.

“Yes! Jinu!” You grip his arms.

“And now you say no more? That’s not your choice baby. I didn’t hear a thank you from all those times you came, did I?” He questions you. His nails and teeth turning sharp, the nails nip your hips leaving you with small scratches as he bites down on your neck.

You didn’t think you could moan any louder. It’s so hard to focus when he keeps hitting your gspot and touching your clit.

“You’re right Jinu!” You moan.

“You gonna tell me thank you?” He demands.

“Uh! UH! Yes! Ah! Thank you Jinu!” You wail.

“Good girl. Learning her manners. Cum for me again!” He summons a vibrator and places it on your clit.

The vibration makes you cum instantly and you see white. Your walls squeeze his dick so hard he has no choice but to cum in you. He slows down and stares at how delicious you look. You blink slowly and next time you open your eyes the boys are all surrounding you with their fully erect dicks out.

“You thought you were done? Well I’m going to keep fucking you as the boys take their turns having you suck their dick.” Jinu kisses your lips for reassurance.

It looks like the Saja boys will be taking another week to “rest”.

[stargirlygirl]

calebcore (nsfw)

⭑.ᐟ "if you aren't sniffing her panties daily to check for ph balance changes, then what are you doing?"

we all know that caleb is a panty sniffer. and an avid one at that. but i’d like to believe that he’s a panty sniffer with a purpose! (other than getting his dick hard, of course.)

every single time you slip a pair off and put them in the hamper, he’s taking them out when you’re not in sight and analysing them. he checks what kind of discharge you’re having, even feels it to see if you’re ovulating yet (and when you are, he marks it in his calendar). then, he’ll take a whiff. whenever you try new foods, he can smell them. the slightest difference, maybe a tang depending on the food, but it’s still there.

if you’ve got a yeast infection, his nose knows. he can smell the intense acidity the minute he retrieves your discarded panties. armed with this knowledge, he’ll get you some medicine from the pharmacy and watch you take it. you’ll be stunned by how he knows when you only just realised. it’s because he’s a freak cares.

⭑.ᐟ "d'you need any pillows?" + "wait, let me get a pillow for your hips."

i’m still undecided about whether caleb is a dom, sub, or switch. he was leaking pre-cum just from seeing you naked in the cameras he’s got all over your apartment. he almost came on the spot the first time you touched his bare cock. and he did cum the moment he slid inside you for the first time.

but, he’s got these yandere tendencies which make me think he’s a dom.

and even if i’ll never know the answer to this conundrum, what i do know is that in bed, caleb prioritises your comfort in every position. he’ll always ask if you’re comfortable before pounding into you like a rabid pack animal (oh wait! he is one).

if you’re spoon-fucking, best believe he’s propping a pillow beneath your top knee so you’re more comfortable, and he has greater access to your clit. before he eats you out, he’ll lift you by your ankles and slip a pillow beneath your hips. on your knees with your ass up and face down? there’s a pillow against your cheek that you can scream into and cuddle with if you need it.

but if you do cuddle the pillow, i think caleb, despite being fucked out as he’s thrusting into you, would notice and immediately become jealous. he would start fucking you even harder, yapping about how much better he can hold you then some stupid pillow. it can’t even hug you back! not like caleb can. with his muscular arms and firm chest and meaty thighs.

when you’re at it but not in the bedroom, let’s say, on the kitchen counter or couch, he’s still checking in with you to make sure you’re at ease. i think he avoids bending you over the kitchen counter while naked because obviously when he ruts into you, you’ll shift forward, which is (i would imagine) ouchies for your boobs pressed against the bench top. it’s also painful for your hip bones, and i think hurting you during sex is such a deal breaker for caleb.

(because his whole thing is that he’s so in love with you and obsessed with you, right? he’s so grateful that you’re even giving him a chance. how could he hurt you, his precious girl? but he inevitably does because he’ll do anything to protect you, even if it upsets you. which in turn makes him feel guilty and awful and like he doesn’t deserve you. so when you forgive him and give him another chance, he feels so grateful and the cycle repeats.)

even if you want him to, i think it would take time, practice, and trust (in you and himself), for caleb to be alright with intentionally neglecting your comfort or causing you pain (which causes you pleasure, you little masochist).

⭑.ᐟ “what am i? a leg press to you?”

during sexy time, he’s definitely cracking some jokes. and this particular one is delivered in that teasing tone as your feet rest on his shoulders, trying to push him off because the mating press has him too deep in your tummy.

he’s your childhood friend turned captor, of course he has a sense of humour! not to be a drag, but so many caleb smuts (incl. my sole one btw right here if you haven’t read it) make him out to be so harsh and possessive. which he is. to an extent. not a complaint but an observation. still love a possessive, jealous caleb smut. BUT i don’t think that’s his angle every time, you know?

along the same lines of comfort, i think joking around would be his way of helping you to relax and let go during your intimacy. maybe he’s licks the tip of your nose during missionary or ruffles your hair teasingly as you suck his cock, making you pull off him and giggle as he grins giddily down at you. or he’ll straight up deliver some stand up comedy while balls deep in you.

furthermore, caleb is a yapper, and he’s not gonna stop yapping once y’all are going at it. if anything, i think he’s yapping even more when you’re doing the devil’s tango. he’s running his mouth, rasping out praises and compliments which make you blush and gush. as we’ve established, he’s telling jokes. maybe he’s riling you up, pissing you off so you can tell him to shut up (which makes him even harder).

⭑.ᐟ “use me however you want”

imagine this, you’re needy asf and text caleb about your predicament. 20 minutes later, he’s at your doorstep. dropped everything under the guise of handling an “emergency” at home, because to caleb, this is a fucking emergency. all hands on deck, you lead him to the couch. things are getting hot and heavy, you’re grinding on his bulge, and he drops this line.

you stop, stunned as you stare at him, stuttering if that’s really okay. he urges you on, and soon enough, he’s sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. his head is thrown back, resting on the cushions as you ride his face.

that nose was MADE to be rode (and to sniff panties), convince me otherwise, ha ha you can’t. and he swears he’s seeing the stars, at heavens’ gates (fr this time) as you drag your sopping cunt all over his mouth. he’s lapping at you, finally quiet for once and in awe of how much you need him right now.

his veiny hands are wrapped around your hips, steadying you as you buck wildly, desperate for his tongue and his nose against your clit. and when you cum, he’s cumming with you. no touching required, your pleasure, your trembling thighs clamping tight around his head in sync with slick and sweet release dripping out of your hole as you scream and cry out, is more than enough to get him off.

if you weren’t riding his face and instead just sitting on it, you can rest assured that he would be using his gravity evol to crush his face with your weight. this pilot wants you to SIT on his face. fuck that hovering bullshit. he’d rather break his perfect fucking nose while making you orgasm than not feel your full weight on him.

i think caleb’s free use kink is natural. it’s not something he’s ever questioned before. like he’s never questioned his undying love and obsession with devotion to you. any time you want him, that’s enough to get him going. hell, he even lets you use him in his sleep. not that you do. you’re not ready for that level of freak yet. or maybe you are, idk. but he loves the thought of waking up and you’re dragging his leaking cock through your slippery slit, pushing it inside of you when he finally cracks his eyes open.

and then he asks if you need a pillow.

⭑.ᐟ “let me guess, the uniform stays on, pipsqueak?”

honestly, do i need to elaborate? i, pipsqueak, say that yes, the uniform stays on. the hat, the dog tags, the gloves (i’m foaming at the mouth rn btw pls restrain me), ESPECIALLY the gloves.

caleb quickly discovered your… fondness for his uniform and likes to tease you about it. when he comes home, all sweaty from another day as the fleet’s colonel with that big dopey grin on his face from seeing his precious girl baking him goodies or reading on the couch, he knows where your mind goes. he’ll give you a big cuddle and try to go and clean up, and sometimes you let him.

other times, though, you’ll pull him back into your arms and hold on to him so tight, it’s like you’re just as afraid as he is that one of you will vanish into thin air. when you gaze up at him with those doe eyes, begging him to ‘entertain’ you that he’ll ask if the uniform stays on. and unfortunately for him, the answer is always yes.

hell, caleb is beginning to feel like a whore with how you pinch his ass in those snug pants and objectify him (he’ll cry it you stop).

i can’t think of anything hotter than caleb, in his fitting uniform, with those gloved hands around your neck, restraining you in a mating press and taking out all of his frustration on your poor pussy after a hard day at work (with your consistent reassurance that doing so is a-okay). those dog tags dangling near your face so you suck on the pendants. his tie is loose, and sweat is dripping down his brow as he babbles about supervising the new recruits.

match my freak, colonel uniform + he gags you with an apple. maybe those new recruits really fucking pissed him off, and when he got home, you were testing him. or maybe he saw you with the delivery man this morning (via the cameras) and decides to remind you of who you belong to.

masterlist

star's final words: i'm back lol. got the clearance from my surgeon today for my ridiculous amount of screen time. this post is more of a rant than a drabble, but i hope y'all still liked it! super excited to be back. i had so many ideas in my six days off (the grind never stops).

[s0dium]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Synopsis: Ever wondered what JJK men with a heavy breeding kink would be like? Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Monsterform!Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Choso, Nanami Kento Warnings: Breeding, rough sex, praise, cum kink, Monsterform!Sukuna, masturbation, PUSSY DRUNK, fingering, nipple play, edging begging, mentions of pregnancy, mating press, overstimulation, marathon sex, degrading, cum kink, subspace, mirror sex, cowgirl

Toji Fushiguro 

It's almost a little game of his, how many times can he cum in you.

Loathes condoms. Toji hates the plastic flimsy things, but after Megumi he would probably be more cautious, his pull out game becomes stronger

The type to keep you plugged up for a bit with his dick after he cums

If any slips out he will use his thumb to slip it back it

Probably doesn't even ask. Every time you fuck him he is gonna cum into you. Such a slut, you deserve it.

“You're doing such a good job baby, taking this like a champ,” Toji moans between grunts, his eyes closed, tips of his ears bright red from the pleasure, and his black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. How long has Toji been dreaming about this exact moment? How many times did he fuck his fist to the image of how your pretty face looks right now? More importantly, he realizes, this is it, this is when he can fulfill his biggest fantasy that's been gnawing at his brain like a parasite; he can finally pump his cum into your sweet belly like he has fantasized about.

“Ngh~ too f-fast~” Tears trickled down your face and yet your hips were needly bucking up to take his dick like there was some how more of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pleasure. You started to arch you back off the bed like a bow and you lock your legs around his back, holding yourself in place so he could fuck you like an animal. The sound of your hips meeting was so loud, that you were sure if any of your neighbors walked by would know what you were doing. Like you cared.

It's as if a primal need has taken hold of Toji, your pleas for him to slow down only go in and out of his ears. With every snap of his hips a creamy ring of arousal forms at his base from your arousal and his precrum. Each movement creates intense friction that heightens the pleasure and the collision of your bodies sends waves of ecstasy through you, making it impossible to hold back your moans. Each motion brings a profound sense of connection and exhilaration, intertwining you closer to the brink of overwhelming joy. The friction of Toji's dick rubbing your walls is enough to leave you breathless and eagerly anticipating each subsequent moment.

"G-gonna cum baby, your gonna take it." He is practically tumbling over his words now from the vice grip your pussy has on his cock. Thank god you are also nearing your peak because you don't know how much more your body can take, you need to use your legs tomorrow.

"Fuck fuck FUCK!" With a loud moan, Toji buries himself deep into your creamy pussy, relishing in the warm feeling, before pumping a heavy load of warm cum into your womb. His cum doesn't stop until your belly was swollen with the hot liquid and your toes curled from the pleasure. The heat spreads through your body, driving you to the edge of pleasure. The overwhelming sensation finally takes over, pushing you into a state of pure ecstasy.

As your pussy convulses, Toji doesn't leave the warmth of your cunt for a second, keeping you plugged and stuffed with his cum.

"Fell so good princess, ya feel like heaven."

Gojo Satoru 

You question whether this is all a dream. It's utterly euphoric, enveloped by every aspect of Gojo—his heady scent, the warmth of his skin, and his mesmerizing voice echoing in your ears. It's a sensory overload that feels almost too intense to be real.

“Oh, where did you float off too, princess?” he coos, watching the glossy, faraway look take over your eyes. Despite this, Gojo keeps up his brutal pace his breathing becoming jagged and irregular. There’s no warning when he comes.

"Love you," you babble, "Love you so much please c-cum in me." Your words are strung out on your lips from how fucking good you feel. As you succumb to each of his forceful, fast movements movements, waves of intense pleasure cascade through you.

“Shit” Gojo spoke through a gritted smile as he blew his load. Almost as if he was unfazed by his ejaculation, Gojo keeps sliding his member in and out, his milky semen leaking out as he continues to push into you relentlessly, not loosing a second of speed.

The sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum trapped inside you, his thrusts are not only slicker and frictionless with the help of his hot cum,

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male above you, “m’ Please don't stop Satoru please don't stop” you cry, and how could he not? Of course, he was going to fuck his second load into you especially when you asked so nicely.

Geto suguru

Above all else, Geto Suguru is a family man

There is nothing more he wants than to see your belly round with his kid, to watch your breasts swell with milk

“Fuck princess you feel so fucking good.” Geto’s words come out accompanied with a chuckle, basking in the way your walls hug his dick.

Straddling Geto Suguru, you feel the solid strength of his arms as he effortlessly lifts you up and down his dick. Each controlled movement is a testament to his power, his hands firm and guiding. Your body has gone slack at this point, the muscles in your legs too tired from its constant tremblings and tightening due to how deliciously he fucked you. Good? Try Euphoric. You were in heaven from the way the tip of his fat dick collided with your gspot. He uses you like a sex toy, shaping your walls with his cock.

Long stray black strands of hair fall from his loose bun as he leans over to whisper into your ear. “Want me to fill you up don't you? Watch you grow round our child—” One of his thumbs rolls over your hardened nubs as he gropes at your chest, causing you to keen at the added stimulation, "These will fill with sweet sweet milk, we’ll make sure there’s enough to share with me. Isn’t that what you want?”  Geto’s balls slap against your ass every time you bottom out on his dick.

“Oh fuh-“ His voice comes out breathless. You can feel each harsh contraction of his balls while he creams inside your pussy, such a tight fit that a ring of it seeps out at the base of where he’s connected to you. 

Choso

Choso cant count the number of times he’s touched himself to the thought of filling you up with cum over and over again, till glistening tears streamed down your pretty face and you were meekly begging him to stop. 

He doesn't know why but to Choso, its almost instinct to breed you up, and how could he resist? From the way your hips swayed to your honey-coated whines that escaped your mouth when he aggressively kissed you, you were practically asking for it. 

“Cho~!” you coo, reaching up and planting messy kisses along his chin. Heavy, hot pants escaped both of your mouths as your hips struggled to meet his brutal pace, to no avail.

Quite frankly Choso didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, of course, he knew you’d feel good, but not this good. Fuck, his fleshlight felt like sandpaper compared to the way your gummy walls sucked and spasmed around him. 

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me please don't sto-” You cut yourself off with as squeal when you felt Choso pull out for a quick second before slamming back into you with a grunt; the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. 

“Mm’feel so good baby, m’so good y/n” Choso whines were muffled due to how his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your scent only serving to bring him closer and closer to the edge. “m’ gonna cum- princess m’gonna cum inside.” he cuts of with a groan of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your walls.

Nanami Kento

See the thing is, Nanami didn't even know he had a breeding kink

It wasn't until he came in you for the first time, it wasn't until he watched it spill out and cover your pussy in a creamy white glaze that he became addicted. 

From that point on, Nanami loathed condoms. 

The side of your mouth was a mess of dripping drool. Legs spread apart by the crooks of his elbows, you let our a strangled whine as you watched Nanami hammer himself into you like a starved man. 

“Nanami!” you sob, reaching up to bury your face in his neck, “Please cum in me please!”

“F-fuck y/n, what did you just say?” He groans, brows furrowed and arm muscles straining as he continues to hold your hips in a death grip and fuck you. You met his stare, breathing heavily with sweat dotting your brow.

“I-I, want you to cum in me… please.” Brown eyes widen at your words, causing a warm rush of pleasure to spread through your tummy and tighten the coil.

“Oh, you filthy little fuck.” His movements began with renewed vigor, hips snapping against you almost painfully as you moaned without restraint. You felt full; completely stuffed by Nanami as he stretched your hole with every thrust.

Sukuna Ryomen

One of the many kinks the curse has

Nothing, and he means nothing is more satisfying than pressing down on your tummy and watching the load of cum spill out from you.

And whats the harm if you get knocked up while he’s at it? The king of all curses needs an heir anyways. 

A hum of satisfaction escaped as he watched your used battered body twitch in the reflection of the mirror every time Sukuna teasingly rubbed your clit in half circles with his thumb. 

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive”.

Two of the curse's other muscular hands played with your nipples, twisting and running over them with his index finger and thumb, flicking over them like one would turning on and off a light switch. How long have you been sitting in his dick, letting fingers work your clit and nipples to the very brink of a mind splitting orgasm, only for the high to be snatched away from you?

“Look at you” Sukuna hummed, his giving a teasing thrust right into your cervix making you gasp for air. You needed more movement, you needed friction; sitting on his dick spread in front of a mirror wasn't enough. “So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his fingers moved over your clit.

“Don't worry little thing, I’ll fill you up soon.”

[laceyfaeryy]

Hii, I hope you're doing well! I'm not sure if you'd be comfortable writing this so don't feel bad if you choose not to. But omfg I can't stop thinking about Price x reader where Price just can't always keep up with reader's sex drive when she's ovulating so he lets his team satisfy her (could be written as just Price asking Ghost to take care of her sex drive for the day, since you only write for Price and Ghost :) )

MDNI 18+

simon riley fucking price’s bird

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ price asks for simon to help him with his birdie’s needs

cw: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, brief mention of an age gap with price

“i swear my dick is goin’ limp at this stage,” price groaned as he sank deeper onto the flimsy couch, his exhaustion visible on his face after he tried to keep up with your stamina.

“maybe yer gettin’ old, can’t keep up with lil birdie’s needs.” simon joked, the small wrinkles on price’s skin seemed to be more defined than usual.

that bruised price’s ego.

but it was true, he was significantly older than you, and it was like his dick got it’s life sucked out whenever he fucked you.

“she’s a lil needy thing, keeps on begging’ for me even when i filled her up.”

simon chuckled, the idea of his captain, getting all worn out by his sweet birdie was more entertaining that he thought. “it’s jus’ that i’m an older man, all these years the only thing i have fucked is my hand, and now that i can finally get sum pussy it’s something different.”

price tried his best to satisfy you, to help you with your needs when you were ovulating, but it was just so damn hard when you wanted more.

“you got a good stamina,” price nodded towards simon, his eyes drifting over his body. tall, strong, big. he would be perfect.

“what, you gonna ask me to fuck yer lil birdie?” a chuckled escaped simon’s lips, before his face went still.

“that’s exactly what i’m asking.”

never in simon’s life did he think that he would be balls deep inside price’s precious little birdie’s cunt, “fuckin’ hell, he wasn’t lyin’ when he said you were tight.” simon hissed as your gummy walls gripped around his cock tightly, as if it didn’t him to pull out, memorising every vein.

this was a privilege that simon secretly prayed that he would get again, to fuck your small cunt over and over until you couldn’t cum anymore.

his large scarred hands gently pressed down on your lower stomach, making you whine and squirm under his grasp. “shh, luvie, simon’s got ya.” he cooed softly as you sobbed, your cunt forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock.

“need you to get worn out yeah?” his voice raspy as your cunt sucked him in, god - no wonder why price always seems so damn exhausted. your arms wrapped around his neck as you sobbed for more, your heels dug into his lower back, pulling him closer. “still hurts si, still aches.”

simon let’s out a soft hum, “i know birdie, but ill get yer lil cunnie the attention she deserves and the ache will go away yeah?” his large hand gently rubbing around your folds, feeling the sensitive puffy flesh around him.

lewd squelches filled the room, simon’s cum leaking out of your swollen cunt as you came over and over again, gushing all over his cock.

“gonna go all night, how does that sound?”

tag list:

@happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969 @doubledizzy22 @lucienofthelakes @arabellatreaty @tessakate @kayden666 @ghostsd8s @ama-eve @webmvie @your-internet-tenshi @novthewolf @1ilo @simpingreader @angeldoll1e @avgdestitute @anonymouse1807 @chaieanne

[fromdove]

THINGS YOU DO THAT THE BATBOYS FIND ATTRACTIVE ! batboys x reader

“God, you’re impossible. And I’m so screwed, because I think I’d let you ruin me.”

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts in jasons & bruces part (maybe dick too??)

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

JASON TODD

the way you hold eye contact when you're angry

It started as a slow simmer—your voice, low and clipped, each word deliberate, sharp enough to slice through the heavy Gotham air. Jason wasn’t even sure what the hell you were mad about anymore. The way your eyes were locked on his, unwavering, lit from within by something electric—it drowned out everything else.

You stood across the room, spine straight, chest rising with each measured breath. Not yelling. Not crying. Just...burning. And looking at him.

There was something about that. The way you didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Like you could take every jagged, bloodstained part of him and still meet him dead-on, like you’d never blink first. It made his heart twist in his chest, something old and animal uncoiling inside him. He’d faced down murderers, monsters, lowlife scumbags—but the fury in your gaze made his throat go dry. Not because he feared it. Because he wanted to touch it. touch you.

You took a step forward, the kind that didn’t echo but reverberated, and that subtle movement—how your hands stayed relaxed at your sides, how your mouth didn’t tremble when you spoke—undid him.

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Jason.”

There was a beat. One taut, blistering moment where the only thing louder than your breath was the pounding in his ears.

And then he laughed. Just a breath of it, almost involuntary. The kind of laugh you get when something hurts and turns you on at the same time. He didn’t even mean to. It just escaped him.

You frowned, and that only made it worse. He wanted to bite your lip just to see if your mouth would still taste like fire when it was pressed against his. He wanted to grab your face and kiss you so hard it left bruises.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful when you’re pissed,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse, almost reverent.

You blinked at that—but didn’t back down. And the way your stare softened just a fraction, that flicker of confusion folding into resolve again... yeah. That did it. That almost ended him right then and there.

He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, like approaching a lit fuse. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to pull, to anchor.

“You gonna hit me?” he asked, tone dark and dangerous and barely hanging on.

You tilted your chin up. “Wouldn’t waste the energy.”

God. That. That right there. The grit in your voice. He could live off that kind of defiance. He wanted to.

Jason had never been good at softness. He didn’t know what to do with people who crumbled. But you—? You held his gaze like a storm, like a girl who could kill him with her silence, and suddenly, all he wanted to do was beg for a second chance to make you smile again.

Not because he deserved it. Because he’d die trying to.

DICK GRAYSON

the way you reach for him in your sleep

It starts small. Always does. You shift once, twice—barely there. Then your hand moves, unthinking. Across sheets warm with your shared heat, it searches.

You don’t know you're doing it. That’s what makes it criminal. You’re not asking to be loved in that moment. You’re assuming it. Trusting the world to place him where he belongs: next to you.

And Dick—poor, cursed Dick—is already awake.

He lies still, pretending. Letting you find him. Every nerve is alight, tuned to the sound of your breath, the whisper of cotton as your wrist brushes the inside of his arm. Then—finally—your hand finds his chest, right over the scar where a blade once tried to make him quiet forever.

Your fingers twitch. Then still. Then curl.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

He’s not thinking about villains or masks or the weight of his last name. He’s not worried about who’s watching, or whether he’s enough. He’s just a man now.

A man undone by the way you, unconscious and vulnerable, reach for him like he’s home. Like your body knows him, wants him, chooses him—without performance, without pride.

And it’s just so fucking sweet. The sweetness that life had never thought him deserving of—never bothered to offer, as if the universe had forgotten him in some quiet corner—was suddenly there, in you. And only then did he realize what he had been starved of.

There’s something maddening about your vulnerability—how you press against him in sleep, skin warm and scent-heavy, mouth parted just slightly. Innocent, yes. But not harmless.

Not to him.

He could write an entire religion based on the way your breath hitches when his hand covers yours. He could burn entire cities if someone tried to pull you away while you sleep.

Because this—this secret, sacred moment where you choose him without knowing— is the kind of thing he’s never let himself want.

But now that he’s had it, he knows.

He’ll want it forever.

BRUCE WAYNE

the way you tilt your chin when you're defiant

It is the tiniest gesture—a tilt of the chin, so slight it might pass for nothing at all. But to him? It is semaphore, a flare in the dusk, a gauntlet tossed with exquisite subtlety.

You do it when you disagree. Not with loud words or theatrics. No. You just raise your chin. Barely. As if your body is saying, “I’m not afraid of you.”“I’ll meet you there, if you push.”

And God help him, he wants to push.

You do this thing where your jaw tightens just slightly, where your eyes go sharp and patient at the same time—like you’ve already calculated the cost of standing your ground and decided to pay it anyway.

You look… royal. As though Gotham’s grime never dared graze your skin. Like tragedy tried and failed. Like you’d walk into fire if it meant protecting what’s yours.

And that infuriates him.

Because Bruce—Bruce—knows what defiance costs. He’s worn it like armor. Bled for it. Buried people because of it.

But when you do it?

It doesn’t look like self-destruction. It looks like purpose. Power. Something beautiful he was never allowed to have.

He wants to touch your face when you tilt your chin like that. Wants to grab your wrist and pull you into him—not to overpower, but to understand. To memorize the blueprint of that defiance. To feel it against his mouth.

You make silence feel like war. And he’s losing.

Because there is something deeply, dangerously erotic about a woman who doesn’t flinch when she should. Who doesn’t soften to make him comfortable. Who looks at the darkest thing in him—and doesn’t look away.

He’s not used to being watched like that. He’s not used to wanting to be watched like that.

And every time you lift that chin, he’s reminded of exactly how easy it would be to give up the act, the mask, the fiction of the untouchable man—

—all for one person who sees him and doesn't look away.

[jaysbaefie]

bullshit | sjy

synopsis: in which months of mocking jake online comes back to bite you, and he makes sure you regret every single word—on your knees.

genre: idol au

pairing: idol!jake x blogger!reader

warnings: dubcon? bratty!reader, petty!jake, mean!jake, big dick!jake, kidnapping (sort of kind of??), oral (m.rec), cum swallowing, reader grinds down on jake’s shoe, mention of daddy kink (but it’s not used), forced submission, manhandling, titty sucking, marking, begging, degrading. self degradation, rough and unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, overstimulation, light spanking slapping and chocking, creampie, spitting, recording for blackmail purposes. i think that’s it….

wc: 15.1k

a/n: this took a lot more time that i initially thought it would … but it’s here now! this draft has been sitting in my archives for years like literal years. back when i used to write on wattpad for bts i had this plot written for tae but scrapped it because i lacked creativity to make it happen. but here we r ! also side note this is not edited to the best of its abilities so if u c a mistake… im sorry :D hope you enjoy, notes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. enjoy :)

✎﹏﹏

the dorm door slammed open, the sound of sneakers dragging across the floor echoing behind it. the 7 exhausted boys spilled into the living room, all drained and sweaty from the insane dance practice that had run two hours longer than scheduled. jake collapsed face-first onto the couch, groaning into a throw pillow as he stretches his limbs before he feels a cramp in his leg.

"i think my spine is permanently bent," he mumbled, not moving an inch.

sunghoon flopped onto the floor, using his hoodie as a pillow. "i think i disassociated during 'bite me.'"

"you always disassociate during 'bite me,'" heeseung shot back, tossing a towel at him making sunghoon scowl.

jay, meanwhile, had his phone out, thumb lazily scrolling through twitter as he half-listened to the chaos around him. he was about to put his phone down when a thread caught his eye.

"kpop idols who probably have the smallest dick (a very unserious thread)"

"...oh?" jay blinked, intrigued for all the wrong reasons. a grin formed on his lips as he clicked, the list started off wild.

1. jaehyun nct - idc what y'all say. he screams below average. 2. jeno nct - this is a hater post. cry about it. 3. jake from enhypen - golden retriever energy but gives micro vibes. sorry not sorry.

jay let out a loud, sudden laugh at the description given for jake—catching everyone's attention.

"yo, jake," he wheezed, turning the screen toward him. "look what someone said about you."

jake rolled over lazily, half hazy, "what?"

jay shoved the phone in front of his face. jake read the tweet once, then again. then a third time. his brows furrowed deeper with each pass, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was reading.

"...are you serious right now?"

he sat up, yanking the phone from jay's hand to read it himself. his eyes scanned the username, the post and then the likes. 10k likes for a bullshit post, jake scoffed in disbelief. he scrolled down to read the replies which were full of people either agreeing or arguing like their lives depended on it.

"no because she's right and she should say it louder" one of the comments read, jake furrowed his eyebrows before scowling.

"i love him but... yeah."

"nah he gives big dick energy actually"

"this is so mean LMFAOOO"

jake's mouth opened in shock. "why am i even on this list? what did i do to deserve this? how does someone look at me and go, 'yeah, micro dick.' what the hell?"

jay couldn't stop laughing. "it's so random, too. like. where did they get the data? did they run a poll?"

"this isn't funny!" jake snapped, slapping jay's shoulder with the back of his hand. "i'm being slandered in front of thousands of people. tens of thousands!"

sunoo peeked over jay's shoulder. "ooh. and someone made a follow-up post. wait—found their tumblr. they said he looks like he apologizes after missionary.'" sunoo cackles, "i can totally see that."

jake nearly choked on air, "what?!"

he snatched sunoo's phone this time, heart pounding as he scrolls violently across your twitter page. he followed the breadcrumb trail from twitter to a tumblr blog: @s0ftbrat666.

the header was a blurry photo of a cunty hello kitty, and the bio just said: "unserious about everything but dick size."

"who the hell is this? why do they hate me so bad?"

niki, who had been quietly sipping water from the kitchen, muttered, "maybe they're a fan of yours. like, weirdly obsessed. reverse psychology or something."

"no. this is personal. this feels targeted," jake muttered, already downloading and opening the tumblr app on his phone. "i'm not letting this slide."

he made a new account. he picked the most ironic, absurd username he could think of: @goldenjake420.

because that screams, 'i'm the real jake sim!!'

he messaged you immediately, his hands shaking in rage as he smashes his fingers into the screen.

@goldenjake420: hey just saw your post about me having a micro dick on twitter. not sure why you said that but i can assure you that it's not true kinda rude ngl maybe take it down?

"this is so stupid," he muttered, tossing his phone beside him.

jay raised a brow. "you really just dm'd a twitter troll on tumblr?"

"yes. because the truth matters, jay. i do not have a micro dick!" he exclaims, clearly frustrated from his group mates lack of empathy. he looks around the room in hopes of his members reassurance, only to receive looks of disturbance.

"cmon guys, you know i don't have a micro dick.." he trails off when he sees sunoo grimace at his words.

heeseung smirked from the other side of the couch suddenly sitting up right, ignoring his aching body. "you should send a pic to prove it."

jay cackles before agreeing, "yeah, downwards angles always make that shit look like a tower."

"SHUT UP!" jake shouted, face red in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

the room erupted in laughter as jake sat there fuming, arms crossed, waiting for a response. he had no idea the person he messaged was already rolling their eyes and preparing to block him.

and this was only the beginning.

you were no stranger to the occasional deranged and delusional fan losing their mind over a post. it was social media, not a diplomatic summit. if you said someone's fave had bad fashion sense or gave off weak dick energy, it was bound to stir drama—but you thrived in it.

what you didn't expect, though, was to get a dm from an account called @goldenjake420 claiming to be jake himself. not just a fan defending him. not someone crying in your inbox about how you were "too mean."

no. this person had committed to the bit.

@goldenjake420: hey just saw your post about me having a micro dick on twitter. not sure why you said that but i can assure you that it's not true kinda rude ngl maybe take it down?

you blinked at the message, snorted, and sat back in your chair.

"okay..." you muttered under your breath. "we've reached new levels of delusion."

you clicked the profile. no posts. followed no one. default layout. pfp of a blurry golden retriever. and the username?

goldenjake420.

"oh my god," you wheezed. this was peak fandom brainrot.

you stared at the message for a minute, thumbs hovering over your keyboard before you decided, you know what? fine. you wanna play jake sim? let's play.

you typed:

@s0ftbrat666: omg jake??? THE jake sim??? i am so sorry... i didn't know you had a tumblr account i feel so bad now omg i'll take it down right away thank you for being so mature and respectful about it... ugh i feel terrible lol

you hit send. then burst out laughing, eyes watering as you cackle alone in your room.

and five minutes later, you posted a new post on your blog.

—— post by @s0ftbrat666

just got a dm from someone PRETENDING to be jake sim because they were mad i said he has a micro dick LMAOOO. like babes be serious... jake sim is not on tumblr dot com messaging me with a blurry pic of a golden retriever and the username @/goldenjake420. but since he's here reading my posts, hey jake! if u're mad now wait til u see what i post next

anyway updated my list: "kpop idols who give off submissive missionary micro dick energy: extended version" jake is now first on the list. i've added footnotes and gifs as evidence. enjoy :] ——

you tagged it: #jake sim #enhypen #pls don't take this seriously #except jake if ur reading this then yeah take it seriously

you sat back and refreshed the notes every few seconds. it was already blowing up. likes, reblogs, someone screaming in the tags: "NOT THE FOOTNOTES."

you were thriving, satisfaction filling you as the comments seemed to hype you up.

unbeknownst to you, somewhere in a dorm across the city, jake was screaming into a pillow.

jake was laying on his stomach, face shoved into a couch cushion, aggressively refreshing your tumblr page like a man on a mission. the first message he sent you hadn't gone exactly how he expected. he thought maybe—maybe—you'd feel a little guilty, take the post down, maybe even apologize. instead, he was met with:

"omg jake??? THE jake sim??? i am so sorry..."

at first, he blinked. then smiled. you were going to apologize and take it down..great!

okay, he thought, that was easier than expected.

but then he saw the post you had published just a few minute later.

—— "kpop idols who give off submissive missionary micro dick energy: extended version." jake is now first on the list. i've added footnotes. and gifs. enjoy :] ——

"NO I AM NOT," he yelled into the pillow, voice muffled but full of sheer disbelief.

he rolled over and shot upright, shoving his phone in jay's face. "do you SEE this? i was already called micro dick jake, but now i'm a submissive pillow princess? where is she even getting this from?"

jay looked over the post with a calm expression and said, "well... you did say 'ngl' in a tumblr dm. that's kinda submissive."

"jay."

"i'm just saying."

jake's blood pressure was actively rising. he was pacing the living room now, phone clenched in his fist. "this isn't a joke anymore. she's making footnotes. gifs, bro. there's like a whole academic paper on my dick energy. and worst of all, PEOPLE ARE AGREEING."

sunoo peeked around the corner. "maybe just let it go? like... it's tumblr. no one's gonna remember next week."

"it's twitter too! no. no, she wanted to make it personal. it's personal now."

he went back to tumblr, typing furiously in your dm's.

@goldenjake420: okay first of all?? i was acc being really nice u said some really rude stuff and i still tried to talk to u calmly but now ur doubling down with footnotes?? idk y ur so convinced i'm a submissive pillow princess but ur wrong like so wrong scientifically inaccurate levels of wrong

he hit send. then stared at the screen.

nothing. no response. refresh. refresh.

"error: message could not be delivered."

"...what?" jake frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he desperately tried sending his messages again.

he clicked your profile.

"you've been blocked by this user."

the silence that followed was deafening.

"she blocked me," he whispered, staring at his phone like it had personally betrayed him. "she actually blocked me."

jay cackled from across the room. "maybe now you'll stop fighting the tumblr girl who thinks you're a bottom."

"i'm not a bottom!" jake snapped, defensive. "and i'm definitely not a pillow princess!"

jay peers over jake's shoulder, his face pulls into a grimace as he reads jake's messages. "maybe it's a good thing that those didn't deliver... you're proving her point." jake rolls his eyes in response, not wanting to deal with his friend.

he opened twitter, then paused. was he really about to tweet about this?

he closed the app.

instead, he opened his notes app and started typing:

"debunking tumblr slander: why i, jake sim, am not submissive nor do i have a micro dick."

this wasn't over.

if he had to write a dissertation, he would. he was reclaiming his name. one footnote at a time.

you were in bed, face smushed into your pillow, scrolling aimlessly when the tag notification came in. you were about to ignore it—probably another reblog of your cursed "submissive missionary micro dick energy" thread—but the caption caught your eye:

@s0ftbrat666 you need to see this LMAOOO he made a THREAD. a whole thread.

confused but curious, you tapped the post.

and there it was.

a full thread. by a tumblr user named @truthaboutjake, which already gave deranged energy, but it got better.

"debunking tumblr slander: why i, jake sim, am not submissive nor do i have a micro dick (a thread)."

you nearly dropped your phone, a giggle leaving you as you excitedly click on the thread.

the first slide was formatted like a presentation. bolded title, bullet points, and an unnecessary amount of spacing like someone had spent way too long formatting it.

—— slide 1: addressing the accusations • the tumblr user @s0ftbrat666 has made multiple posts claiming i am submissive • she has also accused me of having a micro dick • both of these are false, offensive, and based on no real evidence ——

no real evidence, he said. like you were in court.

"what in the deranged.." you muttered to yourself, re-reading the text a second time to make sure you were hallucinating.

you snorted, swiping to the next.

—— slide 2: rebuttal • i've been told i give off dominant energy • no one who owns a denim jacket collection that big can be submissive • as for the size... let's just say i've never received complaints ——

you had to pause there, hand over your mouth, wheezing. "denim jackets radiate peg me," you cackle to yourself.

this wasn't a thread written by a deranged fan. no, this was someone personally offended on a soul level. and the way it was written? the tone? the wording?

it was giving him. it was jake.

no one else would be this pressed.

you laughed so hard you had to sit up.

this man had been so insulted by your dumb, unserious thirst post that he created a whole alternate account, wrote a google-doc-tier thread, and was now trying to clear his name in the notes app format. you were obsessed.

you hit reblog.

—— @s0ftbrat666: i have never in my life witnessed a man fight for his dom rights this hard the denim jacket argument almost had me convinced ngl

jake sim if this is actually you: 1. calm down 2. you're literally proving my point 3. post the evidence since you're so confident ——

the comments came flooding in:

"NOT HIM MAKING A PRESENTATION" "'never received complaints' is CRAZY" "he could've just logged off but now he's in too deep" "@truthaboutjake is shaking"

you weren't done though. oh no.

you clicked the original post again and dm'd @truthaboutjake directly.

@s0ftbrat666: wow a thread? you really sat down and made a powerpoint about your dick this is the best thing that's happened to me all week but you still haven't proven anything so until i see hard (and i mean HARD) evidence you're staying in your submissive micro dick era i'll wait <33

you hit send with a shit-eating grin.

this was your roman empire now. you were going to be thinking about this thread forever.

jake stared at your message like it physically slapped him.

"so until i see hard (and i mean HARD) evidence you're staying in your submissive micro dick era"

his jaw dropped.

"e-evidence?!" he sputtered aloud, standing up in the middle of the dorm living room like he'd just been accused of murder.

jay, sitting across the room with earbuds in, pulled one out and glanced up. "what now?"

"she wants evidence."

jay blinked. "like...?"

jake gestured wildly at his phone. "like evidence evidence!"

jay raised both brows before grinning "...so what i said about the downward angle, i'm telling you jake that shit makes it look h—"

"NO!" jake practically yelled. "i'm not sending a picture of my dick to some random troll on tumblr!"

he fumed. typed. deleted. typed again. then, finally, sent:

@truthaboutjake: okay. listen. i'm not sending you a dick pic. i don't care how much you want "evidence" that's weird. this whole thing is weird. i'm literally just trying to correct a false narrative about myself

you saw the message and immediately rolled your eyes so hard you almost saw your brain. you were curled up on your couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, typing with vicious speed.

@s0ftbrat666: omg. are you serious right now?? NO ONE asked for actual dick pics. what the hell is wrong with you. you're literally so deep in this delusion you really think you're jake sim like?? be serious for once you are a grown man on tumblr dot com pretending to be an idol and defending your imaginary dick size this is next level behavior. you need to touch grass and maybe talk to a therapist jake sim would never you are EMBARRASSING yourself rn.

you hit send and sighed, rubbing your temples. it was funny at first but the more you interacted with this person the more brain cells you lost, it shocked you that people would go to such lengths to defend their favs.

this was beyond fandom drama now. this was a case study. and the worst part? you were kind of impressed with how committed he was to the bit. concerned of course, but impressed too.

like... he was spiraling. but passionately.

still. you weren't going to let up. because whoever this man was, he needed to be humbled.

you opened a new post draft and typed:

—— @s0ftbrat666: update: he dm'd me again and accused me of demanding dick pics because i said "evidence"

i rest my case. this is not jake sim. this is some 32-year-old man who unironically uses reddit and thinks being called "submissive" is a slur

log off, drink some water, and go outside before you get a nosebleed from rage

#jake sim #not the real one obviously #this is tumblr not onlyfans relax ——

✎﹏﹏

jake tried to move on.

he really did.

after the dick thread. after being labeled a submissive missionary pillow princess. after the fake fan accusations and being accused of roleplaying as himself—he made the conscious choice to stop checking your blog. he muted your username. closed tumblr for a solid 24 hours. he even turned off his notifs.

he was healing. growing. rebuilding his sanity.

until a member sent him a screenshot.

it was sunghoon.

of course it was sunghoon.

sunghoon: yo y tf she got sm time on her hands icl tho she funny asf

attached was a photo of your newest tumblr post.

jake opened it, eyes squinting. then he saw it.

—— @s0ftbrat666: watched enhypen's most recent stage and i just wanna know WHO chose those pants for jake like bffr. i can see his entire situation

the dick print? front and center. and it's not giving what he thinks it's giving

it's giving: he begged the stylist to let him wear those pants so he could prove me wrong and i'm here to tell you... babe... don't ever do that again.

i'm LAUGHING.

#enhypen #jake sim #pls don't wear tight pants if ur not ready for the scrutiny king #it's not looking good ——

jake froze.

his phone was literally vibrating with how hard he was gripping it.

"she's watching performances now?" he whispered to himself, horrified.

jay looked up from across the room, warily. "...oh god. again?"

"she's analyzing my crotch, jay. she made a post about my dick print."

jay blinked. "that's... new."

"and she said it's 'not giving'!" jake practically screamed, spinning his phone around to show him. "not giving what?! not giving big dick energy?!?!"

jay read it silently, lips twitching. "...it does kind of sound like she thinks you're trying to prove her wrong. which, to be fair, you kinda are." he pauses for a second, "but i thought she deemed you as a deranged fan, does she think that you're actually texting her?"

jake shrugs, "who knows what she's thinking, clearly way to much of this is the shit she posts. also i wasn't even thinking about her when i wore those pants!"

"you literally made a thread defending your dick size last week."

"NOT THE POINT."

jake felt like he was going to combust. it was like every time he clawed his way back to peace, you dropped another post from hell and dragged him back into the pit.

and this time?

this time you targeted his outfit. his styling choices. his crotch visibility. he couldn't even enjoy the stage anymore without wondering if you were out there in a hoodie, behind a screen, zooming in on freeze frames of his pants.

"this is psychological warfare," jake muttered.

sunghoon looked up from his phone, his face annoyed. he was tired of hearing about this, "just block her again."

jake clenched his jaw. "she'll post about it. she'll brag."

he scrolled back up, reading the caption again. and again. his fingers hovered over your username.

he didn't message you. not this time.

instead, he posted on his burner account:

—— @truthaboutjake: some people spend their lives spreading negativity online because they have nothing else going for them. if you spend your free time zooming in on people's bodies just to make fun of them, seek help.

also, the pants looked fire. ——

he hit post. and then, two minutes later he opened the group chat.

jayke: whoever styled me last week. never again. we're going back to loose pants. i'm not doing this with tumblr anymore

✎﹏﹏

jake tried to stay composed. he tried.

but every time he opened tumblr, there you were—lurking in his psyche like a demon with wi-fi.

at first it had been a few jabs, sprinkled here and there between your usual posts about other idols. someone's hair, another's dance move, one guy you kept thirsting over for his "evil smirk" and "long fingers." whatever. jake didn't care.

until suddenly—your entire blog became about him.

not in a cute, stan-like way.

no.

it was relentless.

"jake sim update: still looks like a man who apologizes during sex."

"new era, same micro dick energy."

"his pants looked like they were holding in a lie."

"i know he fumbles the aux every time. just look at him."

your followers ate it up. reblog after reblog. tags like "#he's just so bashable" and "#jake sim slander is self-care" filled the notes.

there were polls. there were graphics.

you made a tier list of idols based on who looked like they cried after sex, and jake was placed right at the top with the caption: "he looks like he'd say 'was that okay?' while tucking his soft dick back in his briefs."

jake was spiraling.

the worst part? you didn't even seem like a hater. you didn't hate him.

you just... targeted him like it was your job. your content was crafted with care. effort. borderline affection.

jay leaned over one afternoon while jake doomscrolled through another one of your polls—this one titled "which idol do you think would last the shortest in bed (no offense)", where jake was winning by 68%.

"you know," jay mused, "i think she actually likes you."

jake looked up, eyes wide with horror as he looks at jay disgusted. "what?"

jay shrugged. "she's obsessed. it's giving weirdly specific attention. enemies-to-lovers coded."

"jay. she made a gifset of my crotch."

"exactly."

jake nearly threw his phone across the room.

it wasn't just slander anymore—it was becoming personal. and the most infuriating part?

you were so sure. so smugly sure.

every post was laced with casual cruelty and the sharp confidence of someone who truly believed they knew him. his vibes. his music taste. his dick size. like you'd studied him and filed a damn report.

and the urge to prove you wrong? it was eating at him.

he'd see one of your posts and get this itch. this slow, simmering burn in his gut. like he had something to prove now. like he wanted to walk up to you and say—

"say that shit again. to my face."

he'd fantasized about it more than once.

cornering you at a fansign, maybe. or catching you backstage if he ever figured out who you were. you with that smug little expression, your arms crossed like you knew everything. and him, leaning in, low and sharp, and making damn sure you knew you were wrong about everything—especially that.

he wasn't even mad anymore. not just mad. he was determined.

this wasn't just tumblr slander. this was a challenge.

and jake sim? he didn't lose.

✎﹏﹏

jake laid in bed, phone hovering above his face, lit only by the blue glow of tumblr's godforsaken app. it was well past 2 a.m., and he'd already scrolled through your entire blog—again.

he told himself it was just to see if you'd posted anything new. which, of course, you had,

but really, he was spiraling.

another post. this one read:

—— @softbrat666: something about jake sim just screams whines when it doesn't slide in all the way like he'd pause mid-thrust to ask if you're okay because he came too fast

he'd definitely say 'but you just feel so good...' as an excuse ——

and the worst part?

jake read every single reply. studied them, even. like they held some kind of twisted insight into how you saw him. how you imagined him. you were building this whole persona of him in your mind and then broadcasting it to thousands of followers like it was gospel. and the most messed up part?

you had just enough accuracy to make it sting.

and yet—you remained anonymous.

faceless. untouchable.

he'd tried to find out who you were. he dug through old posts, clicked your tags, searched your url on twitter and insta.

all he found was:     •    you lived in seoul     •    you were 21     •    you drank too much iced americano     •    and you had audacity in excess

that was it. no selfies. no personal posts. no full name. you were just a sassy username and a collection of jake sim hate posts.

meanwhile, he was a public figure with his whole government face on blast while you dragged him through the mud constantly.

he hated how much he thought about what you looked like.

were you soft and bratty, like your tone suggested? did you smirk when you wrote those captions? were you the type to twirl your hair and say, "what? it's not that deep," while ruining a man's reputation?

he imagined you walking around seoul, laughing with your friends, ordering overpriced coffee with that smug, evil-little-gremlin energy.

he imagined running into you.

he'd play it cool at first—polite, casual, maybe even a little flirty.

watch you ramble. watch you squirm. and when he caught you slipping—maybe when you made some offhand comment about k-pop or tumblr—he'd hit you with it:

"so how's that blog going? still think i'm a submissive pillow princess with a micro dick?"

he rolled onto his side, fuming into his pillow. you lived in his head rent-free and you didn't even know what he looked like at night when he was losing sleep over your bullshit posts.

it was unfair.

you got to stay invisible while he was out here analyzing his own stage outfits to figure out what clip you were gonna slander next.

he scrolled back to that gif set you made of his recent performance. paused on the close-up. the zoom-in.

the goddamn caption: "not jake sim trying to start a dickprint redemption arc. spoiler: it's not working."

his eye twitched.

"this girl is the devil," he muttered.

and yet... he couldn't stop checking. he needed to know what you'd say next.

✎﹏﹏

you wake up to absolute chaos.

your phone is buzzing. not one or two notifications—hundreds. group chats. twitter and tumblr dms. unknown numbers. missed calls. it's like your phone caught fire overnight.

you blink against the morning light, groggy and confused, heart picking up speed. something's wrong. you can feel it. you squint at the screen, drag down your notifications, and the first notification you see makes your stomach drop.

"girl you're trending rn... what did you DO???"

then another.

"is that actually your name???"

your pulse is pounding before you even open twitter. your fingers shake as you type your own @ into the search bar, and the second you hit enter, your breath catches.

it's you.

your name. your photo. your phone number. everything.

someone—no, a group of people—had clearly gone full fbi. they'd taken all your casual, dumb little posts over the years and pieced them together like a fucked-up puzzle.

and now your full name was in a viral thread titled: "this the girl behind the jake sim micro dick blog?"

with a photo of you at a party two months ago, smile beaming.

people were quote-tweeting it with comments like: "she built like someone who'd have beef with jake sim for no reason." "oh she definitely owns a stan twitter burner too." "her blog is my roman empire i need her in therapy immediately."

your blood turned to ice. you were exposed.

fully.

not just as a shitposter but as the jake sim hater. your inbox was flooded—death threats, confessions, apologies, people asking if it was really you. tumblr dms screaming:

"TAKE THE POSTS DOWN BEFORE HE SEES THEM."

too late.

you scrambled to log into tumblr. your hands fumbled across the keys. it took three tries to get your password right.

the second you were in, you did the only thing you could do.

you hit deactivate.

the blog was gone. years of posts. thousands of notes. all of your followers, your drafts, your hate-poll templates.

deleted.

and then the panic really set in.

your hands were trembling. your ears were ringing. and all you could think about was @truthaboutjake, your mind racing. it was him, you realized that it was him.

"he knows. jake sim fucking knows who i am."

and the worst part?

you had no idea what he'd do with it.

✎﹏﹏

jake found out the same way everyone else did—waking up to a string of texts from jay and sunghoon absolutely losing their shit.

jay: bro. check twitter. sunghoon: she got exposed. jay: HER NAME IS OUT LMAOOO jay: bet she's sweating rn sunghoon: she's kinda cute tho

he blinked hard, still groggy, and tapped open the thread that seemed to be trending.

your face stared back at him.

his heart flipped.

you looked... nothing like what he expected. he'd imagined someone smug. cold. maybe with villain bangs and a cigarette habit.

but no—there you were, face flushed in a group photo, laughing mid-sip of iced americano. you looked normal. it almost hurt to admit, but you were pretty.

you looked real.

and now, you were reachable.

he did what anyone would do: searched your name on instagram. he found your linked facebook.

scrolled. scrolled.

paused.

you had your workplace tagged in an old comment.

"juniper bean café - seoul branch."

he stared at it for a long moment. then, very calmly, he stood up, threw on a hoodie, cap, and mask, and left the dorm.

✎﹏﹏

the café was a little tucked away spot with plants hanging from the ceiling and a chalkboard sign outside that said "kiss me, i'm caffeinated."

jake walked in, glancing around. he spotted you immediately, behind the counter, head down as you punched in an order.

he could tell that you had a rough morning, good. your posture was tense. your hair was pulled back messily. your voice was strained. you looked tired, your eyes that seemed so full of life in your leaked photos had disappeared.

he stepped up to the counter. waited. his eyes trailed down your figure, your frame was draped with a loose fitted sweater and some baggy light wash jeans. you wore a black apron, cinching at your waist—allowing his hungry eyes to capture your curves.

you were trying to look invisible. trying not to stand out. but to him—you were glowing with guilt.

he watched you fumble with a stack of napkins, pretending you didn't feel his eyes burning into you. finally you cleared your throat, still not looking up.

"hi, what can i get you?"

he smiled behind his mask, slow and wicked. he pulled it down just enough to speak—voice dripping low, sharp with mocking sweetness.

"you gonna spit in my drink too?" he asked. "or just keep running your mouth somewhere i can't see?"

you froze.

head snapping up. eyes locking with his. and there it was—that flash of horror, recognition, disbelief. it was him.

you had to admit, he was just as if not more handsome in person. your mouth dried up when you watched his lips curl into a smirk and his eye twitch.

your mouth opened. closed. no sound.

"hi," he said, almost sweetly. "miss me?"

you fumbled a reply—something, anything—but he leaned in, resting his elbows on the counter like he had all the time in the world.

"you disappeared fast. what happened? got leaked and lost all your guts or did you burn through all your micro dick material?"

your coworker looked between you both, utterly confused and in awe that jake was standing in front her. you took a breath. straightened your spine. tried to salvage your dignity.

"this is harassment," you muttered.

"this is karma," jake shot back, his smile dark. he twitched in anger, how dare you call this harassment—what about what you had been doing for the last couple of weeks? "i wanted a latte, by the way. no sugar. unless you're finally ready to be sweet to me."

you nearly dropped the milk jug.

he didn't care. he was so amused. you were the girl who wrote entire essays dragging his dickprint and his imagined bedroom habits? you, flushed and stammering behind a café register?

he wanted to laugh. he wanted to lean in closer. he wanted to ruin you back.

and this? this was just the beginning.

your hands were shaking. milk frother sputtering. heart pounding in your chest like it wanted to escape. and he—jake fucking sim—just stood there.

smiling.

smug.

head tilted slightly like he was thrilled by your discomfort. "you gonna make that latte, or you gonna keep fumbling around and glaring at me?" he drawled, voice low and casual.

you gritted your teeth, turned back to the machine, and fumbled through the motions of making the drink. you could feel his eyes on you the entire time—watching, drinking you in like you were the fucking joke.

you finally slid the drink across the counter, trying not to slam it.

"here. now leave."

he didn't move. just sipped slowly, then licked a bit of foam from his lip like it was the most dramatic thing anyone had ever done in a coffee shop.

and then—he leaned forward. elbow on the counter. voice quiet, words slow and deliberate:

"what time do you get off?"

you blinked, "excuse me?"

"your shift. when does it end?"

"why the fuck would i tell you that?"

his smile widened, all teeth now, sharp and smug. "because there's going to be a black car waiting for you outside." he continues, "when you clock out, you're going to get in. and then you're going to follow instructions."

you stared at him, genuinely floored. "are you insane? what the hell are you talking about?"

he tilted his head, mockingly sympathetic. "i get it. you're scared. probably embarrassed." he grins, "but see, that's the thing about defamation—once it's public, i can take legal action. and you've been very public."

your stomach dropped, "you're bluffing."

he shrugged. "wanna bet your savings account on that?"

you opened your mouth. closed it again. because—fuck. he wasn't bluffing. he didn't have to. you'd posted too much. said too much. and now he had your face, your name, your location.

"you can't just—kidnap me," you said, weaker than intended.

he laughed.

"it's not kidnapping if you get in willingly, sweetheart."

then he slid the latte off the counter, turned, and started to walk toward the door. before he left, he glanced back, over his shoulder.

"9 p.m., right?" he called out. "don't be late. i hate being stood up." he grinned, fuck him.

the bell jingled as he left. the door shut behind him.

and you stood there, in your apron and sneakers and sweaty palms, absolutely rattled. what the fuck did you just get yourself into?

✎﹏﹏

9:03 p.m.

you were pacing behind the café. your shift ended three minutes ago, but you hadn't stepped outside yet. you couldn't. your feet felt like bricks. your stomach twisted with anxiety, hands clenched in the pockets of your jeans.

what the fuck am i doing?

you shouldn't go. you know you shouldn't go. this was literally stranger danger 101, except instead of a stranger it was a kpop idol whose dick size you flamed online for weeks.

your brain was screaming at you. your nerves were a warzone. your inner monologue sounded like one long anxiety spiral:

"you're insane." "this is how people get murdered." "he's rich. he could make you disappear and blame it on anxiety meds." "but also... maybe he just wants to talk?" "or maybe he's gonna sue you in person with his scary legal team and laugh while you cry." "or—worse—what if he takes a picture with you and posts it with some shady ass caption like 'finally found her :)' and now you're really cooked?"

your fists clenched tighter.

this was your own fault. you were the one who made that blog. you were the one who said he looked like a pillow princess. you were the one who photoshopped a pacifier into that one fansite photo and captioned it "baby boy can't handle coochie."

and now?

now he knew your name. your face. your shift schedule.

and there it was, waiting on the curb like a horror movie prop—a sleek black car, windows tinted, headlights glowing like eyes.

you stared at it.

and then, finally, took a deep breath and walked towards it.

the back door opened before you could even touch it. you slid inside, hesitating, clutching your bag to your chest like a shield. you looked around the dimly lit interior. leather seats. no jake.

just a stone-faced driver in a black cap.

"um," you said cautiously. "where are we going?"

no response.

you leaned forward slightly. "hello? i just—can you at least tell me if jake is—"

silence.

he kept driving.

great.

you sat back, heart still racing. the lights of the city blurred past the windows. you couldn't even track the direction—you were too jittery to focus. every turn felt like it took you farther from safety.

and god, the silence was suffocating.

you hated it. you hated him.

jake sim and his smug face and his legal threats and the fact that this whole thing was so humiliating.

how the hell did he turn it around on you? curse those people who leaked you.

you were supposed to have the power. the upper hand. you were the one who had thousands of people laughing at his expense. you were the one whose posts got quoted like bible verses on stan twitter.

and now?

now you were alone, in his car, being driven to god knows where because he told you to.

you should've never fucking posted about his dick. you should've stayed anonymous. kept your mouth shut. deleted the pacifier post when it hit 10k notes.

the car slowed. you peeked out the window. it wasn't some mansion, like you feared. wasn't a dungeon either—at least you think so.

it was a private-looking building—modern, sleek, tucked down a quiet alley with a gated entrance. definitely expensive. definitely secluded.

you were dropped off at the curb. the driver didn't say anything—just nodded toward the front door.

you stepped out slowly, phone gripped tight in your hand, ready to fake an emergency call or scream if necessary.

a man, different from the driver, opened the front door. another silent guy in all black gestured for you to follow.

you hesitated, then followed him down a short hallway, up a narrow flight of stairs, until you reached a door with a single number carved into it: 17.

he knocked once, then opened it.

you stepped in—and stopped.

jake was inside.

he was leaning casually against a wall, dressed in all black—hoodie, chain, jeans, hair tousled, like he hadn't even tried and still looked like a good.

he was scrolling on his phone when you entered, then looked up.

and grinned, "hey." he stops, letting his gaze travel down your trembling form, "glad you could make it, hate blogger."

you wanted to punch him. you wanted to turn around and leave. but most of all—you wanted to know what the hell came next.

and by the look on his face?

he was very ready to show you.

room 17 is quiet. too quiet.

you stand near the door, gripping the strap of your bag like it's your last line of defense. jake hasn't moved from his place against the wall, but his eyes haven't left you for a second. he looks too calm. like this is just some casual meetup and not the most batshit confrontation of your entire life.

"you still haven't told me why i'm here," you say finally, voice tight, trying to sound unbothered even though your throat is dry.

he doesn't answer right away. he just studies you, eyes flicking from your clenched fists to your shifting posture to the tiny, almost-invisible tremble in your knees.

then he lets out a soft little chuckle, the kind that feels mean. smug and quiet and condescending.

"you really don't know?" he asks, stepping away from the wall at last. his strides are slow, deliberate, like he knows you won't run—but that you should.

you take a step back automatically, bumping into the door behind you.

"if this is about suing me," you mutter, chin lifting defensively, "you could've just emailed your legal team. this whole drama king act—" "i'm not suing you." he cuts you off, voice calm but sharp. he walks past you and locks the door with a soft click. your stomach flips.

"then what the hell is this?" he turns back to you, expression unreadable, "this is about correction."

you blink, "what?"

"you posted things that were... inaccurate." he steps closer. you press yourself further into the door. "about me. my body. my performance. my preferences." another step. you swear you stop breathing, "so now i'm giving you a chance to see the truth."

you stare up at him, wide-eyed, "you're joking."

"does it look like i'm joking?" he murmurs.

you're momentarily speechless. your brain is whirring, trying to process what's happening. jake sim—international idol, global heartthrob, the man you've memed within an inch of his digital life—has dragged you to a private room to debunk his dick size?

you should laugh, but you can't.

because he's standing too close. because he's looking at you like prey. because his voice is dipped in amusement but his eyes are furious.

"you're out of your mind," you whisper, eyes wide and your jaw slacked.

he shrugs, "maybe."

his hand lifts, knuckles brushing your chin—just enough to make your breath catch.

"but you made this personal. you dragged it out. you turned it into a running gag." he leans down slightly, until your noses are nearly brushing. "and now you're gonna watch what happens when you say shit you can't back up."

your throat works around a swallow. your persona starts to crack.

still—you can't not be a brat.

"so what, you're gonna just pull your dick out like some frat boy in a scandal?" you snort. "you're so mad over a joke, you're—"

"baby," his voice cuts you off again, soft but dangerous.

"a joke is calling me clingy or annoying. a joke is editing me into a pink onesie." he steps even closer, "but accusing me of being a submissive pillow princess with a dick that couldn't break a hymen?" he tilts his head, mocking, "that's slander."

you flush. deeply, "you saw that post?"

"i've seen every post," he says coolly. "and the reblogs. and the tags. and the memes."

you suddenly feel so small. not because he's taller—though he is—but because you'd spent months building this image of jake sim as a joke. a punchline. a target.

and now he's right here. and he's pissed.

"you're really that bothered?" you ask, but your voice is quieter now, unsure. "bothered?" he repeats, almost scoffing. "sweetheart, i was obsessed." his hand lifts again, brushes your hair away from your face, fingers dragging a little too slow behind your ear.

"you don't understand what it's like to be degraded by someone who's too cowardly to even show their face." he pauses, his eyes dropping to your lips, "but i'll show you."

you swallow hard. "so what?" you ask, trying not to waver. "you want me to apologize? to... take it all back? post a formal retraction about your dick?"

he grins. slow and sharp, "nah."

"i want you to see it," he pauses, lets the words sink in. "and then i want to see the look on your face when you realize you were dead fucking wrong."

your mouth opens. no sound comes out. your heart is pounding so fast you think you might throw up. because there's teasing and there's joking and there's flirting with danger—but this? this is crossing the line, and you don't know if you want him to stop.

you laugh, it comes out breathy and nervous and completely unconvincing. "okay," you say, holding your hands up a little, trying to cut the tension with sarcasm, "haha, very funny. you got me. you've officially scared the shit out of me, and if that was your goal, congratulations."

jake just stands there. watching you. expression unreadable, unreadable and dark. you shift on your feet, trying to find a way out of this, trying to reclaim some sense of control.

"look," you continue, "i'll take everything down, okay? every post. every meme. every stupid out-of-pocket caption." you swallow. "i'll issue an apology. hell, i'll write a thread. a whole google doc. whatever you want."

you inch away from the door, toward the side of the room, trying to put some space between you.

"i crossed a line. i get that now." you laugh again, weaker this time. "like—clearly."

jake still doesn't speak, he starts walking.

slow. silent. like a cat with its prey cornered.

your back hits the wall.

"i'll stop posting about you," you rush out, your heart beating frantically when you feel jake's breath fan against your cheek. "seriously. no more degrading content. no more jokes. you win, okay?" his palm hits the wall beside your head with a sharp thud.

you freeze.

he leans in.

"i don't want a fucking apology," he murmurs, voice thick and low, the sound of it making your legs weaken. you try to hold his gaze, but it's hard when he's this close. when you can smell his cologne—clean and warm, like cedar and skin. when you can see the heat in his eyes, the tension in his jaw.

"i want you to look at me," he says, "and admit you were wrong."

"i just did—" "no." his other hand comes up, fingers ghosting your chin, tilting it up. "not because you're scared. not because you think i'm gonna sue your ass. i want you to say it because you know."

you suck in a breath as his fingers graze your throat. not squeezing. not threatening. but claiming, staking a presence.

"you think i'm some submissive little pushover," he whispers, "who just lays there and takes it. soft. boring. harmless."

your heart pounds in your chest so loud you swear it echoes. "you think you own the narrative. that you get to decide who i am, what i'm like in bed, how big my fucking dick is."

you flinch at the way he says it, so vulgar and harsh it shoots straight to your core.

"but the second i show up—" his thumb brushes your bottom lip. "you're quiet. nervous. twitchy. like you already know you were talking out of your ass."

you suck in a shaky breath and try to bite back the heat that's crawling up your neck. "you're insane," you whisper, but there's no bite behind it.

his body is so close now, you can feel the heat radiating off him. he hasn't even touched you properly and you already feel like your knees are going to give.

"what do you want from me?" you ask, voice barely holding together. he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"i want to fuck the lies out of your mouth." his voice is so low, it vibrates down your spine. "i want you to choke on everything you said about me and realize i was never the one being dominated."

you let out a small, shaky sound—and that's when he finally kisses you.

not soft.

not slow.

possessive. like he's claiming what he's owed.

like he's trying to shove every insult back down your throat, one filthy kiss at a time.

your mind blanks the second his mouth claims yours. his tongue pushes past your lips without hesitation, his hand gripping your jaw to keep you right where he wants you, and you feel it deep—too deep. like he's trying to crawl inside your ribcage and brand himself there.

his kiss isn't gentle. it's punishment. all teeth and tongue, your back shoved harder into the wall as he presses against you. his body completely, deliberately dominating yours.

"still think i'm soft?" he growls against your lips when he pulls back, breath ragged, thumb digging into the underside of your chin to keep you looking at him.

you don't answer. you can't.

your mouth is open, panting, lips wet and swollen from how violently he just kissed you. your knees barely hold.

his gaze drops to your mouth. then lower, and lower.

he smirks.

"you look scared," he says, tilting his head slightly. "thought you liked writing filthy shit about me. what happened to all that confidence?"

you swallow hard, still in absolute disbelief, "you're—you're actually insane."

"and you're actually still turned on." his hand drops to your hip, gripping hard, pulling you flush against him—and fuck. he's hard. painfully hard. pressing right against your lower stomach. and he knows you feel it.

your eyes widen. you try to squirm away but there's nowhere to go, your back hits the wall again and his thigh wedges between your legs.

"not so micro now, is it?" he breathes against your neck. you let out a broken sound—half gasp, half groan—and that's when jake loses it.

he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, other hand sliding beneath your shirt, grazing skin and pulling a shocked noise out of you. he doesn't give you room to breathe.

"say it," he growls. "say you were wrong."

you shake your head. still stubborn. still you.

"no?" he scoffs. "fine." his thigh presses harder between your legs, rocking up once. your clit throbbed pathetically at the feeling, it was just enough friction to make your eyes roll back. you try to keep your composure, but he watches your face change—watches your pride falter.

"don't lie to me, baby." his voice drops lower—hungrier. "you're dripping. over the same guy you dragged for months."

you gasp, trying to turn your face away from him, but he leans in again, his nose brushing your cheek.

"you gonna blog about this too?" he whispers. "tell your little followers how jake sim manhandled you and made you eat your words with his cock halfway down your throat?"

you whimper and it disgusts you how fast your body betrays you. how wet you already are. how much you want him to ruin you just to prove you were wrong.

and he can tell.

he sees the shift in your expression. how your resistance is slowly, deliciously, falling apart.

your wrists are still pinned, your breathing uneven, chest rising and falling fast as jake leans in like he owns the air around you.

"i'm done hearing you talk," he mutters, dragging his mouth along your jaw. "i think it's time you showed me just how sorry you really are."

he releases your hands and steps back. you don't move. your legs are trembling, your pride hanging on by a thread.

"on your knees," he says simply.

you scoff, arms folding defensively across your chest, "you can't be serious—"

he tilts his head, "i'm not asking again."

there's no loud threat. no yelling. just the terrifying calm of someone who already knows he's won. you hold your ground—barely. but something about the way he looks down at you, already palming the bulge in his jeans, makes your body respond before your mind does.

you sink, slowly. knees hitting the floor like it's a confession. he watches you with quiet satisfaction, like he's waited for this exact moment.

he had been dreaming about the moment he would get you to himself, on your knees—right where he wanted you.

"look at me," he says, and you do—eyes meeting his as he unzips, the sound ridiculously loud in the silence.

he's already thick in his hand when he pulls it out, and your mouth goes dry. you don't want to admit it, but fuck. it's big. way bigger than you ever gave him credit for. your throat tightens at the sheer weight of it, thick and flushed and veined.

his smirk deepens when he sees the way your eyes drop.

"what was that again?" he mocks, giving himself a slow stroke. "micro?"

you glare up at him, heat crawling up your neck. "i was clearly misinformed."

"say it properly."

you hesitate, his free hand tangles in your hair—firm, but not painful. just enough to tilt your face up toward him.

"say. it."

you grit your teeth, "i was wrong."

"about what?"

you groan. "about your dick. okay? you don't have a micro dick."

he raises an eyebrow, "that all?"

"it's big," you mutter, cheeks burning. "you made your point." he laughs—low and satisfied—and guides your face closer, "not yet."

you gasp when you feel his tip touch your cheek, he grins at your expression—feeling satisfied with your shock. he does a few experimental taps, dragging his length over your lips. you hold in a whine when he smears his pre cum over your bottom lip, almost as if he was applying lipgloss on you.

and then he pushes in.

there's no easing into it—he gives you the thick weight of his cock all at once, making you choke. your hands scrambling to grip his thighs as he holds you there, watching with dark, satisfied eyes.

"look at that," he murmurs. "mouth so full of me you can't even talk shit now." you gag again, but his grip stays steady, fingers flexing against the back of your head as he rocks his hips in slow, controlled thrusts. just enough to make you feel how deep he is and prove how wrong you were.

he could feel how warm your mouth was around him, basking in the feeling of not only pleasure but the satisfaction of shutting you up.

"this what you wanted?" he groans. "to see what i've been hiding in those pants you loved to degrade?"

you can't respond. not when he's using your mouth like a cock sleeve, fucking every insult out of you with a punishing rhythm. spit drips from out of your mouth and onto your chin. tears prick at your eyes and yet—somewhere deep in your gut—you like it.

jake's grip on your hair gets stronger, the pain causing your jaw to slack as you continue to take his brutal pace. you could feel the head of his cock  rub against the back of your throat, the force not strong enough to make you gag but enough to cause a stream of tears to run down your face.

your nose touched his pelvis with every thrust, indicating how deep he was going. "fuck. look at you, __. who knew cock being in your mouth is the only way to shut you up."

you whine at his words, looking up at him with pleading eyes—yet you didn't know what exacting you were begging for. you rub your thighs together in hopes for some temporary relief, the scene so lewd that you could feel yourself gush in your panties—holding in the urge to let your hands wander down to touch yourself.

jake looked down at you with hungry eyes, his lip twitching as his grip in your hair grew tighter with each thrust. he let low moans slip from his mouth every time his dick grazed the back of your throat.

"aren't you a dirty little whore.." jake drawls out, his chest heaving with pleasure when he notices how tightly you have your thighs clenched. "getting all worked up for someone you've publicly shat on for having the least sex appeal."

you moaned around him when suddenly he pushed your thighs apart with his foot, wedging his sneaker between your legs—giving you something to ease up the tension in your core.

you mewl when he pushed against your clit, almost urging you to grind down against him while he used your mouth to his hearts content. slowly, but surely—you allowed yourself to ground yourself against him. it sickened you how desperate you had become in just a span of a few minutes.

jake almost cums when he sees you move your hips, desperate for any kind of friction to relieve you from your throbbing clit.

the familiar feeling in his stomach begins to tighten, his grip on you becoming unforgiving as he loses self control and allows himself to push himself into your mouth as much as he could. his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly now, a mixture of his cum and your spit dribbling out of your mouth.

"f-fuck," he groans. "m'gonna cum.. you're gonna take it? yeah? take it in that bratty mouth, hm?" jake murmurs to what seems himself just before he combusts in your mouth. you swallowed a chocked moan when you feel his warm cum coat your mouth, gagging around him as he twitches.

jake felt as if he was on cloud 9, his head lulling to the side as he keeps your head planted where it is—ensuring that you swallow what he gave you fully.

when he finally pulls back, cock glistening with your spit and his cum, your jaw aches as you swallow the salty yet sweet taste of his release.  your chest heaving like you've just survived something.

"mouth open and tongue out," he demands. you hesitantly open your mouth, your tongue out as you show him that you swallowed everything.

you whine out desperately when he slides his foot away, leaving you aching again. jake tsk's, "desperate slut."

he crouches down to your level, thumb wiping the corner of your mouth.

"still think i'm a pillow princess?" his voice is a little breathless now. dark and smug. "or you finally ready to admit you don't know shit about me?"

your throat still burns. your lips are swollen, coated in spit and shame, and jake's leaning over you like he's just getting started.

"on your feet."

you hesitate, still panting, still dazed from the way he fucked your mouth like it was owed to him. but something in his voice—firm, expectant—makes you move. your knees tremble as you rise.

jake doesn't give you time to adjust. the second you're upright, he steps in close, hands on your waist, guiding you backward until your thighs hit the edge of the bed.

you're pressed back against the mattress, thighs parted under his hands, still catching your breath from how rough he'd just been with your mouth. but instead of backing down, you do what you do best—deflect.

"look—how about this," you say, voice shaking but holding onto some scrap of cocky defiance. "i'll just say the blog was satire. irony. you know, performance art or something. no one has to know i meant any of it."

jake's expression doesn't change.

"or better yet—i'll make a new post trashing someone else. redirect the attention. easy." you flash a grin that's all teeth. "maybe i'll even throw in a little praise for you. balance it out."

he just blinks at you. slowly.

"you think you're negotiating right now?" his voice is calm, but the grip on your thighs tightens.

you blink. "i mean, i'm trying to be reasonable—"

"reasonable?" he laughs, but there's no humor in it. "you publicly dragged me for weeks. humiliated me. and now that you're caught, you want to rewrite the narrative?"

"i'm offering solutions—" "you're offering bullshit," he snaps, and in a second he's climbing over you, his body slotting between your legs like it was made to be there. "and you think you still have leverage? cute."

your breath hitches. your hands push at his chest, but he grabs your wrists and pins them down again, harder this time—your body arching into him involuntarily.

"here's what's really gonna happen," he says, leaning in, nose brushing yours. "you're gonna try to flip this. act like you're still in control. try to turn the tables on me."

your throat tightens.

"but you won't. because the second you try, i'll remind you who made you beg. who had you gagging on the dick you said didn't exist." his voice drops lower, dangerous. "and then i'll ruin you all over again."

you glare up at him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and defiance."you know what? fine." your voice is sharp, shaky. "you wanna play games? i'll play. let's see how fast you fold when i turn this around."

he raises an eyebrow. "is that right?" you reach down between your bodies—slow, deliberate—wrapping your hand around him. he's still hard. unfairly so. hot and heavy in your palm.

"maybe i was wrong about the size," you murmur, stroking him slow, his breath hitching. "but maybe you really are just a pillow princess. maybe you like being praised more than you like fucking."

his jaw ticks.

you press a kiss to his neck, voice a taunt against his skin. "what happens if i ride you instead? if i make you cum all over yourself."

he freezes.

"what if i write about that next?" you sit up dragging your tongue along the edge of his jaw. "'jake sim—big dick, zero stamina.' think the internet'll love that?"

you think you've got him.

until suddenly—he flips you.

you yelp, back hitting the mattress again as he rips your hand away from his cock and shoves your thighs up around his waist. the shift is fast, dominant, practiced.

"you really thought that'd work?" he's laughing now—mean, breathless, hungry. "thought you'd rile me up and get the upper hand? you forget who tracked you down and got you here in this room." his voice is pure venom now, thick with want. "who had you gagging and drooling on your knees while you fucked yourself on my shoes not even 5 minutes ago?"

his hands expertly yank off your jeans, his thumb hooked around the waistband of your baby pink cotton panties—teasing you. you writhe beneath him, but he doesn't budge—he presses into you, cock sliding between your clothed folds just to tease, just to show you what you don't get to control.

"you wanna test stamina?" he growls. "i'll fuck you 'til that smug little attitude disappears. 'til you're begging me to stop. 'til you're crying and calling me daddy."

you gasp—rage, arousal, panic blending in your gut—but you can't deny the throb between your legs. the way your body betrays your pride.

he feels it too.

his free hand runs up your sweater, your breath shaking as you feel him run his fingers up your stomach and make themselves comfortable on your tits. letting your hands go momentarily, he's yanking your sweater off and throwing it across the room.

"didn't know bratty girls like you wore baby pink. ruffles, lace trim—bows?" he grins, his hands playing with the frills of your bra as you twitch beneath him.

"fuck you," you spat out, voice coming out weaker than you wanted it to. jake only smirks, his hand reaching up to pull the straps of your bra down—letting your tits fall out. "oh i will," and with that he's taking one of your nipples hostage in his mouth. his grip on your wrists stays planted, not allowing you to move or struggle against him when he nips at the sensitive skin of your breasts.

he switches from left to right for a few minutes, basking in your whimpers and mewls before he kisses down your stomach. pulling away he's back to being face to face with you, a smug look on his face before he plants a kiss to your jaw. the kiss turns into bites, nipping at your neck and chest as he leaves behind purple splotches.

"maybe you can post the marks i left and then bash me," jake grins against your skin. you roll your eyes in response only for jake to shoot you a look that says: behave.

he moves your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to his hungry eyes. he runs his thumb through your slit, gathering your slick.

"so wet," he mutters, dragging the head of his cock against your slit. "guess your body knows who's in charge, even if your mouth doesn't." he slams into you—deep, all at once—and you scream.

no teasing now. no easing in. no prepping.

just punishment. just proof. just him, ruining you from the inside out like it's the only way to shut you up.

"gonna make you forget every insult," he grits, hips snapping into yours over and over. "gonna fuck the hate right outta you."

he could feel your velvet walls convulse, sucking him in like a vacuum as he thrusts into you. you cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders, back arching, mind blurring. you hate how good it feels. how right.

"gonna ruin you," he whispers, lips at your neck. "and you're gonna thank me for it." his mouth traveling down to your tit to engulf one of your nipples once again.

your body jolts with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping and moans filling the room as you struggle to adjust to his girth.

you're still trembling when jake lifts your chin. his touch is deceptively gentle, but there's nothing soft in his expression. smug. commanding. dangerously patient.

"you still think you were right?" he asks lowly, voice scraping down your spine like velvet over steel. you blink up at him, lips parted, but your throat is dry. no sass now. not with the way your body's still recovering, knees weak, throat raw from every choked sound he pulled from you.

when you don't respond jake stops his movement, his hips go still as he simply stares down at you with a dark look in his eyes.

you were falling apart.

his cock was deep inside you, filling you so completely you couldn't even think straight— but jake wasn't moving. he just held you there, pinned beneath him, wrists trapped against the mattress, his hips grinding slow and mean against yours.

you whimpered, hips twitching up against him helplessly, desperate for more. he smirked down at you, cruel and smug, loving the way your body shook, the way your face twisted in frustration.

"what's wrong?" he murmured mockingly, leaning in so close his lips brushed your ear. "thought you'd be tougher than this."

you rationed with yourself for a moment, were you really going to beg? yes.

you tried to twist your wrists free but his grip only tightened. "please," you gasped out, tears welling in your eyes from how badly you needed to cum. "please, jake, i need it—"

he laughed, low and sharp, and snapped his hips forward once—deep and brutal—making you cry out. but then he stilled again, ignoring your desperate whines.

"you need it?" he repeated, pretending to think. "need my cock? need me to make you cum like the stupid little whore you are?"

your cheeks burned, shame rolling through you, but you nodded frantically.

"say it," he ordered, voice dropping, rough. you squeezed your eyes shut, humiliated, but the words still poured out.

"i need your cock," you sobbed. "please jake, please—i'll do anything, i'll be good, just let me cum—"

he laughed again, so fucking satisfied with himself.

"should've thought about being good before you started running your mouth online," he muttered, dragging his cock slow and deep inside you, making you arch and cry out.

you were shaking now—your whole body burning, every nerve stretched tight and ready to snap.

"you want it that bad?" he asked casually, grinding his hips just enough to make you sob.

"yes," you choked out. "please, jake—please, i need to cum, i can't—"

he grinned wickedly and finally, finally started fucking into you hard—deep, punishing thrusts that made you see stars. your walls clung onto how dick like a suction in attempt to milk him dry.

your moans spilled out loud and wrecked, your whole body bowing off the bed.

"good girl," he murmured darkly, "you're gonna cum when i say. not a second before." you nodded frantically, not trusting yourself to speak without crying. and when he finally, finally leaned down and growled, "cum for me, slut,"

you shattered.

you came so hard you were sobbing, spasming around him, your body giving out completely under his.

jake fucked you through it, laughing under his breath, dragging every last bit of pleasure and humiliation out of you until you were left shaking and gasping for air.

and even then, he wasn't done with you yet. he hadn't cum yet, and at the end of the day that's what you were here for—to be his little cum slut.  you barely had time to breathe—your body still spasming from the orgasm he tore out of you before jake grabbed your hips and pulled you back down onto him, grinding even deeper.

you yelped, broken noises spilling out of your mouth, trying to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

"no," he snapped, voice sharp and final, one hand locking tight around your waist to keep you from moving. "you don't get to run."

your head lolled back, tears slipping down your cheeks, your body a twitching mess.

"too much," you sobbed, trembling violently.

he laughed—laughed—at your misery.

"too bad," he muttered against your ear. "you're not done." he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard, fast, merciless. your thighs shook, your nails dug into the sheets, your mouth fell open in helpless, gasping cries. you could feel yourself spiraling again—pain and pleasure tangled together until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"you think you're in control?" he grunted, slamming into you harder, making you scream. "you think you can say whatever you want about me and not pay for it?"

your whole body jolted with every thrust, the humiliation making your head spin.

"say it," he growled. "say you were wrong."

you whimpered, stubborn even now, biting down hard on your lip. he slowed down, grinding his cock against your sensitive walls in deep, deliberate circles that made you keen helplessly.

"say it," he repeated, cruel and low, "or i'll edge you until you're fucking crying."

your pride crumbled fast.

"i was wrong," you gasped out, voice cracking. he smirked, hips snapping forward again. "about what?"

you squeezed your eyes shut, shame flooding you. "about—about your dick," you choked out. "i lied, you're big—you're fucking huge—"

he chuckled darkly, like he already knew. "good girl," he breathed, voice dripping with mockery. "what else?"

you shook your head frantically, body jerking with overstimulation. he pulled almost all the way out—your cunt squeezing around nothing— before slamming back in so brutally you cried out.

"what else?" he hissed against your throat.

"i—i'm just a stupid bitch who doesn't know what she's talking about," you sobbed, face burning hot.

he laughed again, so fucking satisfied, so cruel.

"that's right," he murmured. "a stupid little whore who can't stop begging for the cock she said was too small."

you whimpered, broken, humiliated beyond repair. and still—your body clung to him, desperate for more. you realized with a sick twist in your gut that you would do anything—say anything—just to have him fuck you harder.

and jake knew it too.

he leaned down close, mouth brushing yours cruelly.

"beg," he whispered. "beg me to ruin you."

you could barely think. your body was burning, trembling, stretched tight around him— your mind a broken mess of shame and need. and still jake kept fucking you deep, rough, relentless.

his hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, your throat, your jaw—manhandling you like you were nothing more than a toy for him to use.

you whimpered when he grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him.

"beg," he ordered again, voice dark, breathless with lust. "beg me to ruin you, slut."

you shook your head at first, a broken little sob tearing from your throat. he growled low, slammed into you even harder—your back arching, a scream ripping from your lips.

"you don't get to say no," he hissed. "you wanted this." tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling violently.

"please," you gasped out, the word slipping before you could even think. "please jake..ruin me, use me. fuck me however you want—"

he laughed, so fucking smug, dragging his cock out slow just to make you whine. "good fucking girl," he murmured. "finally learning your place."

you babbled desperate nonsense, sobbing into the sheets, your pride shattered into dust.and jake fucked you through it all—using you like a fleshlight, pounding into you until your legs gave out, until your voice was wrecked and broken.

"this what you wanted, huh?" he sneered, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a sting. "to get fucked dumb? to get put in your place like the stupid little whore you are?"

you nodded frantically, gasping, sobbing, brain completely mush. "can't even speak anymore," he muttered, mocking. "just a cockdrunk mess." your nails clawed helplessly at the sheets, your cunt squeezing him so tight he groaned.

you felt another orgasm building—sharp, unbearable—but you were too gone to even ask permission. you just sobbed and gasped and let him take everything from you.

"yeah, that's right," he growled, voice thick with pleasure. "cum all over my cock, slut. make a fucking mess."

you shattered, your whole body convulsing around him, screaming his name like a prayer, a curse, a broken confession. and jake fucked you through it, dragging every last bit of your pride and resistance out of you, until there was nothing left but a crying, ruined mess on his cock.

you were shaking. your body was limp, wrecked, trembling under the weight of everything he made you feel.

and jake still wasn't satisfied.

he kept moving, grinding his cock deep inside your overstimulated cunt—mocking every broken sob that fell from your lips.

"what's wrong?" he said, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "too much?"

you could only whimper, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. he grabbed your face again, rough, forcing your glassy eyes to meet his.

"you wanted to run your mouth so bad," he sneered. "now you can fucking thank me." your brain barely processed the words, too fogged with shame and pleasure. he slapped your cheek lightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to snap your attention back.

"say it," he barked. "say thank you."

you whimpered, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"th-thank you," you stammered, voice barely a whisper.

he smirked, cruel and satisfied.

"louder," he ordered, snapping his hips forward viciously, making you cry out. "thank you!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and broken.

he chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down your throat, pressing lightly just enough to make your head spin.

"thank me for ruining you," he muttered, rolling his hips slow and deep, dragging another helpless moan from your lips.

your pride was turned into ash, your mind gone.

"thank you for ruining me," you gasped out, shaking uncontrollably, completely destroyed. he groaned, clearly getting off on how ruined you were—your body slack, twitching, drooling, your cunt spasming weakly around him.

"pathetic," he muttered against your ear. "look at you." you could feel how wet and messy everything was—your thighs sticky, the sheets underneath you soaked.

and still—still—he wasn't finished.

"gonna fill you up," he rasped, voice rough with the effort of holding back. "gonna fuck you so full you'll be leaking for days."

you sobbed, the humiliation sinking deeper into your bones.

"please," you whispered, because you didn't know what else to say anymore. he grunted low in his chest, thrusting faster, chasing his release. he could feel that familiar tinge in his stomach, he was close.

"such a good little cumdump," he growled. "just a hole for me to use." you broke again, another weak orgasm rolling through your abused body.

and jake finally spilled inside you—deep, hot, filling you up exactly like he promised.

he didn't pull out immediately. he stayed pressed deep, making sure you felt every drop. when he finally did pull out, you collapsed completely, a ruined, twitching, crying mess.

and jake just chuckled, so fucking smug. running his fingers down your slit before plugging your fluttering hole, making sure that his cum stays in you for as long as it could.

"maybe next time you'll think twice before running your mouth about me," he said, releasing your wrists before he gets off the bed. he left you there, spread open, dripping, humiliated beyond repair.

and you realized with a sick twist of your gut— you liked it.

you fucking loved every humiliating second of it.

✎﹏﹏

your body aches.

not in the romantic, soft-lit, post-orgasm kind of way.

no. it's raw. it's degrading. it's embarrassing.

your legs are trembling so badly you have to lean on the sink just to stay upright. your thighs sticky, sore. your throat dry and stretched thin from the pathetic, wrecked sounds he pulled out of you.

you yank your clothes back on as fast as your shaking hands allow, muttering curses under your breath. you can't even look at yourself in the mirror. because you know what you'll see: the ruined, wrecked version of yourself jake created.

and you hate him.

you hate how smug he looks when you finally stumble back into the room—hair mussed, shirt untucked, standing like he didn't just break you open with nothing but his cock and his fucking mouth. you hate how he leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a look that says he's already won.

you hate that he was right.

and you really, really hate that you liked it.

you roll your shoulders back, force yourself to stand straight even if your body is begging you to drop.

"that what you wanted?" you rasp out, voice wrecked and scratchy. "you win. congrats. want a trophy or something?"

jake doesn't say a word. he just watches. calm. amused. smug.

and it pisses you off. burns you alive from the inside.

"you got what you wanted. you ruined my pride," you snarl, stepping closer even though your knees are ready to give. "so what now? supposed to kneel and thank you? beg you to keep ruining me?"

he cocks his head slightly, lips twitching.

you hate how unbothered he looks. you hate it so much it makes you reckless.

"you don't actually believe i meant all that, right?" you spit. "you really think i meant it when i said you're big? when i cried about how good you fucked me?"

you scoff, shaking your head with a cold, sharp laugh.

"you're pathetic. you got played because i moaned a little."

and that's when everything shifts.

because jake steps forward—smooth, controlled—grabbing your jaw so hard you gasp, slamming your back against the wall without even looking like he's trying. his face is inches from yours, breath warm, eyes dark and furious.

"still lying?" he murmurs.

your heart pounds wildly. you try to twist away but his grip on your jaw tightens, bruising.

"you begged for my cock," he hisses, thumb dragging across your trembling bottom lip. "you fucking cried for it. and you're gonna stand there and lie to my face?"

you choke on your words, humiliation pouring down your spine in cold waves.

he laughs bitterly, the sound vibrating low in his chest. "guess you really are as dumb as you look."

you flinch.

and jake leans in closer, voice dropping lower, meaner. "you wanna pretend you're still in control?" he taunts, dragging his fingers down your throat slow, almost tender. "you wanna act like you didn't cum so fucking hard you couldn't even say my name?"

you tremble.

but you don't back down—not yet. pride and fear tangled up, keeping you frozen.

he chuckles darkly.

"fine," he says, voice a low threat. "i'll remind you."

his hand snakes between your thighs, shoving your jeans down again, your underwear dragging with it, baring you completely in seconds. you gasp, struggling—but he's too strong, too fast. he grabs you by the hips, throws you onto the bed like you're weightless.

and then he's on you.

he presses your wrists to the mattress with one hand again, his weight pinning you down, his other hand roughly forcing your legs apart.

you barely have time to gasp before he's inside you again—deep, brutal, fucking the defiance out of you one savage thrust at a time.

you cry out, throat raw. he fucks you like he's furious, every slam of his hips meant to punish. "not so fucking smug now, huh?" he pants against your ear.

you whimper, broken sounds spilling out without permission.

"what happened to all that fake confidence, princess?" he mocks, rolling his hips harder, forcing your body to take every inch. "thought you said you could handle it."

you sob, writhing under him, but he doesn't let up. he leans down, dragging his teeth across your jaw, making you shudder helplessly.

"gonna make you beg again," he growls. "gonna make you say it like you fucking mean it."

you try to shake your head—but you're drowning. he's everywhere. he's everything. and no matter how much you try to cling to your pride, it crumbles between your shaking hands.

you're crying now—humiliated tears streaking down your flushed face—as he pounds into you mercilessly.

"please," you choke out, voice cracking.

he chuckles, cruel and satisfied.

"please what, baby?" he taunts, slowing his thrusts to a deep, punishing grind that makes your whole body twitch and seize.

"please," you sob again, shame burning you alive. "please let me cum."

he leans back slightly to look at you—hair a mess, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

"you don't deserve to cum," he says, voice mocking. "whores who lie don't get rewards."

you whimper, hips stuttering against his, desperate, broken.

"but," he adds slowly, almost lazily, "if you beg real nice... maybe i'll consider it."

you sob harder, pride shattered into dust. and then—you beg.

you beg like a good little whore.

"please, jake," you cry, voice wrecked and hoarse. "i need it—i need to cum—please, please—"

he grins, dark and cruel, and finally—finally—lets you fall apart again, your body convulsing, cunt clenching around him helplessly as he fucks you through the brutal, soul-crushing orgasm. and you barely have a second to breathe before he's moving again—pulling out, grabbing your face in both hands, forcing your mouth open.

"open wide," he orders.

you're so wrecked you don't even think to disobey. you just open—lips trembling, eyes wide and glassy.

and jake leans over—spits straight into your mouth, thick and wet and humiliating.

you gag slightly, tears burning your eyes.

"swallow," he commands sharply.

you do.

you obey without even thinking.

and he smirks—grabbing his phone, flipping open the recording he just made of your pathetic begging, letting you hear it on loop while you lie there ruined, body trembling, throat raw.

he tucks his phone into his pocket, grabs your chin again, forcing you to look up at him. "remember this next time you wanna talk shit," he says, voice low and smug.

he kisses you—mocking and possessive—and leaves you there: used, wrecked, humiliated, and so thoroughly owned that you can't even pretend anymore.

jake sim ruined you and there's no taking it back.

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[heartofjasmina]

Your boyfriend has been fighting his breeding instincts since high school. Always wrapping it, always, even if he did want to feel the satisfaction of filling a warm wet hole with his cum.

So by the time you're married and finally alone in your hotel room, he can't wait anymore.

"Mrs. L/N." He breathes against your lips, peeling your travel dress of your body with the reverence you deserve. Your beautiful curves drive him crazy even now.

"I wanna see your tits get heavy with milk." He murmurs as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. His hands groping at the softness of your hips and your love handles. He pulls off your nipple with a lewd pop, his eyes turning upward to meet yours. "Wanna see your belly swell with our child."

"Let me put a baby in you." He whispers, standing and finally pressing his erection against your soft stomach. His eyes plead with you, the deep seated need to start your family evident in his gaze.

"Okay, Mr. L/N. Let's make a baby." You grin as you press your lips to his, squealing when he all bit picks you up and tosses you onto the bed.

It's not long before you're folded underneath him, your knees pressed to your chest as he fucks you with his fat cock as deep as humanly possible. He can feel the head of his shaft kissing your cervix, he can feel your wetness on his bare dick and he goes a little crazy.

His words slurred, positively drunk on your pussy, "Gonna knock you up mama, fuck. Perfect fucking pussy, see how she's creamin' for me? She wants a baby I can tell."

Your eyes are crossed from how perfectly hes hitting your spot and your brain is melting from the heat of his dick and his words.

You have no way to prove it, but you're pretty sure it was that first time of that long night that got you pregnant with your daughter.

Daichi, Kirishima, Iwaizumi, Bakugou, Deku